


Unlikely

by fabric_hands



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Black Panther (2018), Doctor Strange (2016), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Avengers Tower, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Dorks, Drabbles, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone’s alive and they all live together, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Good times, Happy with a Happy Ending, Headcanon, Housemates AU, Light Angst, More tags to be added, Mostly Dialogue, No Angst, No Romance, Nobody is Dead, Nonbinary Ancient One, Not A Fix-It, Plotbunny, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Rarepair, Relationship(s), Requests are super open bro, Roommates AU?, T'Challa (Marvel) Is a Good Bro, Team as Family, The Ancient One Lives, Yondu Udonta Lives, cooking together, everyone is great, good feelings only, good fluff, good stuff, headcanons, i mean the REAL NICHE STUFF BUDDY, im back babey, its great, maybe? - Freeform, probably i mean, rarepairs, real rarepairs, requests open
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 20:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 30,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15915477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabric_hands/pseuds/fabric_hands
Summary: Alternate universe where the Avengers, Guardians, everyone— they live together, and everything is okay.Have you ever wondered what it would be like if Bucky met Nebula? Or if Ant-Man had lunch with Peter Quill? Or if Doctor Strange became friends with T’challa?It could happen, no matter how unlikely.(A compilation of short stories. I mainly focus on rarepairs. Requests are open!)





	1. Metal Arms and Broken Hearts (Bucky/Nebula)

The arm was what caught her attention.

Sure, Nebula could have paid attention to anything or anyone else. There were plenty of other residents in the tower, and many of them were crammed into this room. A “meet and greet” was what it had said on the little invite that the spider-kid had doodled up, but it felt more like people who had already met one another talking about things they already knew.

She was in a building— the Avengers Tower, or whatever it was called. It was her new home, apparently, but she wasn’t complaining. Nebula had grown accustomed to her new surroundings, however strange they were. Earth was a planet that was... fine. It was fine. She could stand it. It was better than living on a tiny ship, floating in the vast expanse of space with several idiots.

Out of the options, this was preferable. It was fine.

But this gathering was just with a bunch of idiots she didn’t recognize. Many of the humans looked the same, anyway. She couldn’t tell most of them apart even if she bothered to care. Instead, she sat on a couch and stared off into space, not really wanting to interact.

The spider-kid— Peter Parker was his name— had given her a paper plate with a greasy slice of bread on it.

”New York’s finest pizza,” he grinned. “I-I thought I’d give you something from Earth. We have a couple more boxes on the snack table if you want some more.”

He was an... excitable child. He actually really wanted to be here, and for whatever reason, seemed thrilled to be among these other people. Nebula almost felt pity for the child.

Looking down at the plate, Nebula grimaced. She could feel the grease seeping through the plate and onto her hand. It disgusted her.

The kid was still looking at her expectantly. He wanted her to eat it.

Nebula sorely did not want to put this in her mouth any more than she wanted to listen to a bunch of humans talk about things she didn’t understand. She didn’t owe anything to anyone, and only came here because her sister insisted. But the kid was practically begging using only his eyes, and she didn’t want to break this kid’s heart.

Nebula cursed herself for showing empathy.

She sighed, irritated. Picking it up by its driest part, she placed the tip of the slice in her mouth and chewed. A long strand of gooey yellow stuff trailed from her chin to the slice, not breaking. It was vile.

”Mmm,” she forced through the mouthful.

Peter smiled, then rushed off to join the other humans and babble about whatever they were babbling about.

Nebula promptly spit the mush back out onto the soggy plate, then tossed it onto the table in front of her. It wasn’t the most savory dish. She sneered, disgusted with the excuse for food, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. 

That was when she noticed the arm.

A glint of black metal, from across the room. For a moment, she assumed it was part of the bizarre Earth archetecture, but then she noticed it was actually attached to a person. That person had shaggy dark hair and tired, tired eyes. He wasn’t talking to anyone. Just staring.

The prosthetic arm was odd to look at— dark, and incredibly sleek. He must have had gotten it made by a very capable mechanic. Was it even from Earth?

Nebula hummed. Apparently, some Terrans had cybernetic enhancements as well.

She must have been staring, because the man’s tired eyes caught her own. She looked away haphazardly, trying to make it look like she wasn’t staring.

It didn’t work, as a familiar figure sat down next to her. It was the man.

He exhaled as he sat, and pushed his hand through his hair. He apparently didn’t seem amused by any of the other chattering people. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Nebula.

But he did clear his throat.

”So,” he scratched at his stubble. “You not into socializing either?”

Nebula was almost taken aback that he had talked to her. “At least not with anyone here, no.” She suddenly became conscious of the grease on her chin, and tried to wipe it off.

He hummed. “Understandable. I know some of these people, and I still don’t want to talk to them.”

She couldn’t hold back a chuckle at that, still rubbing at her mouth.

The stranger was quiet for a second, staring at Nebula’s cybernetic enhancement. Noticing his curiosity, she groaned internally. She hated when people did that.

”Nice arm.” He said.

She threw him a glance. “You too.”

He smiled. “It’s new.”

She didn’t respond. Nebula still wasn’t exactly interested in conversation.

”...Where is it you’re from?” He turned to look at her.

”Space.” She answered bluntly.

”Ah.” He just sat back forward.

Silence again. Nebula hopes it would stay that way.

”What is it you did up in space?”

”Killed hundreds.” She replied dryly. She didn’t want to entertain this man anymore, and usually revealing that she was a murderer did just that.

Instead, he sniggered.

Nebula looked at him in confusion. He had a sorrowful smile on his face.

”Me too.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Sorry?”

He shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself.” He sighed, then put out his robotic hand.

Nebula stared at it for a moment, then looked back up at him.

”It’s to shake.” He teased.

”I know.” She snarked, and took his hand in her own robotic one.

The man smiled. “Name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

”Nebula.” She replied.


	2. Trick and Tree (Loki/Groot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki loves messing with Groot.

Groot was an odd creature to Loki, but nonetheless an entertaining one.

The tree-child was always on his little devices. The galaga, the gameboy, the other little handheld whatevers— he paid little mind to anything around him. He was absorbed in the games. It rendered him unaware of everything around him; seemingly willingly. Because of his angsty nature, he would not respond to anything people asked him, or even pay the world basic attention. 

He was rude and snarky to everyone around him. It was amusing to watch this tree-person badmouth everyone and everything that could possibly interact with him. Nearly every time someone told him to do something or even just said ‘hi’, Groot would either respond with silence or a snarky remark.

However, it was Loki’s best guess as to what it was he was saying whenever he actually opened his mouth. His only responses would be “I am Groot”. Apparently, what seemed to be him introducing himself over and over had actual meaning to it. The ‘Guardians’ seemed to understand what he was saying and acted accordingly. 

Thor also knew what he was saying because of the elective he took. But Loki didn’t bother to ask his brother to translate. It would be humiliating.

Loki took notice. Of course; it was hard to not pay attention to a moody, pubescent tree-person. Angsty, absentminded, and careless about other around him.

It seemed like the two would get along. And by ‘the two would get along’, Loki meant he would take great pleasure in irritating him as much as he possibly could.

The game was the obvious choice. From a distance, this trickster god would mess with the controls, causing Groot’s game progress to be hindered. It was immediate glitching and malfunctioning within the game, almost completely wiping all of Groot’s progress on the archaic consoles. He did not lose gracefully. Whenever he threw the controller across the wall, Loki would have to stifle a laugh. So this was a ‘rage quit’. He did it often, and only after awhile did he grow bored.

But tinkering with the games became frivolous, after awhile. Seeing Groot yell and scream in frustration grew old. So instead, he decided to amp up His mischief.

Loki would now move his games if he ever put them down (a very, very rare occasion) and feign innocence when Groot went looking for them. The extreme withdrawal and anger he felt when away from his electronics was unparalleled. It was hilarious.

One time, Groot hurried up to him, irritated and antsy. Loki had just taken away his little device, and was milling about, minding his own business.

”I am Groot?” He asked frantically.

Loki looked down at him, his face the very picture of innocence. “Ah, nice to meet you.” He held out a hand to shake. “Loki.”

Groot growled. “I am Groot!”

Loki knew he actually meant to say something, but he couldn’t understand it anyway. He wasn’t feigning confusion, and also not technically lying.

Not that he didn’t have any qualms with lying.

”Yes, you said that.” Loki tried to hide a smile.

”I! Am! Groot!” Groot stamped his foot, his nasally teenage voice not very intimidating.

”I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, stumpy.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

Groot screamed in anger, when suddenly his arm grew rapidly in size.

This took Loki by surprise.

Groot planted— excuse the pun— his fist into the trickster’s chest, packing a punch that hurled him across the room. He could have dodged it if he saw it coming, but he underestimated the little tree-beast. The wall dented upon impact, and Loki slid to the ground.

Loki hacked, slumped up against the wall. “You,” he coughed. “Have got some real knots in your trunk.”

Thor ran into the room at the sound of the crash. Always such a ‘good guy’, Loki sneered.

”Brother, what just happened?” He asked. He looked over to Groot. “Did you do this, Tree?”

”I am Groot!” Groot whined in protest, pointing at the now getting up Loki.

Thor shot an accusing look at his brother. “Did you take the tree’s entertainment?”

”He punches me into a wall,” he brushed debris off of himself, catching his breath. “And you’re worried about his toys?”

”Brother,” Thor chided. “Give it back.”

”I’m just trying to get him to socialize.”

”I am Groot!” Groot interjected.

”There is no need from that kind of language.” Thor said. He turned back his brother. “Return it, or he will punch you a second time.”

Loki huffed, and rolled his eyes. With a whip of his hand, the game was in his open palm.

Groot snatched it from him, ravenous to return to the enthralling game of Galaga. No sooner had he taken it than he had his nose inches from the screen, walking away vacantly. The rage that had fueled him had come and gone.

Thor looked at Loki and shook his head. “You need to find a hobby or something, brother.”

”That was my hobby.”


	3. The Bug and the Beast (Mantis/Hulk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mantis doesn’t quite know what “Hulking Out” means, but she is eager to help wherever she can.

Green was a color that Mantis liked a lot.

If she didn’t like it, she would have been in trouble. The only outfit she owned was green— well, the only outfit she had owned for a majority of her life. She had other clothes now. She had perused many stores with the help of a kind woman named Wanda, who paid for her garments. They were comfortable and stylish. 

Many of them were still the color green, though. That was alright.

Earth had lots of green. It was the color of the native nature. Grass was green. Trees were green. Many plants were also green. She liked it all. It was pleasant. Mantises, the creatures she was named after, were also green.

But Mantis had never met a human who turned green.

It happened early on, as she became integrated into the Avengers. She was just becoming accustomed to her new living quarters. At the time, she was examining a curious device, called a “teevee”.

As she observed the odd moving pictures, she heard someone running down the hallway outside her room. There was a nervousness from the person. It made her worried. She cautiously peered out of her door.

There was a man running by, frantic. He was dark skinned, and a little short. This was the human named “Sam”, Mantis remembered.

”Excuse me,” she said loudly after him. “What is going on?”

”Ah—“ he stopped in his tracks. “Mantis— it’s Bruce. He’s hulking out.”

She cocked her head, trying to recall who he was talking about. “Bruce?” She certainly didn’t know what “hulking out” meant either.

Sam whipped his head down the hallway at the sound of a distant, gutteral yell. He groaned, and continued to run. “Just stay there!” He called behind him.

She did not stay there, unable to stand by when something was happening. Hands folded, Mantis followed Sam.

When she reached the end of the hallway, there he was. A large, shirtless, incredibly muscular man who was also incredibly angry. She did not need empathic abilities to realize that, as he had his fists curled into tight balls and was yelling. He was sweating, and breathing heavily, as if he had just recovered from a tantrum.

His skin was also a deep, dark shade of green.

The Iron Man, Tony Stark, had his hands up in a comforting stance. Sam was there too, trying to calm him as well now.

”Hey, Hey.” He tried to soothe the beast. “It’s okay, buddy.”

”Hulk not okay!” The creature roared. “Hulk angry!”

”I know— hey, hey!” Tony snapped. “I know! Whenever you show up, you’re angry. I get it.”

”Hulk no want to go!” He yelled.

”And I know, I know, but you—“ Tony gestured around him. Mantis now noticed that couches were flipped, and a few paintings were ripped off the wall and thrown to the floor. “You need to calm down before you cause any more property damage.”

”Hulk no care about property!”

”We see that, Hulky.” Sam replied.

”Is Hulk!” He exclaimed, slamming his fists to the ground. “No Hulky!”

”Where the hell is Natasha?!” Tony exclaimed at Sam as Hulk threw another fit. “Shes the only thing that ever calms him down now!”

”I’m working on it!” Sam exclaimed. As he turned to look st Tony, Mantis caught his eyes, still standing there with her hands folded. “Mantis!” He hissed.

Tony turned around to look at her. “Mannie, hon, it’s okay. Just go back to your room, we’re taking care of this.”

”He is angry,” Mantis stated, watching Hulk punch at the wall.

”Yeah, we got that.” Tony grumbled, hopelessly watching Hulk pummel his property. “When isn’t he?”

”You would like him to stop?”

”As of right now, he’s my biggest problem.” Tony responded. “So, Yeah.”

Without thinking, Mantis began to walk up to the Hulk. Carefully, cautiously, as if she were approaching a feral animal. Which wasn’t too far a cry of what he was acting like.

”Mantis!” Sam whisper-yelled. “Stop!”

She slowly reached out a hand as Hulk noticed her presence. He turned to look down at her and sneered, still breathing heavy.

”What do you want with Hulk?!” He yelled in anger.

She touched her palm to his chest and whispered “sleep.”

Immediately, the Hulk’s fists unclenched. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his muscles loosened. Standing still for just a moment, he swayed, then fell backwards. 

He crushed a couch under his gangatic weight, now complete unconscious.

Tony and Sam were silent. They exchanged glances, and Mantis turned to look at them.

“Shall I go back to my room?”

Sam shook his head, staring at Hulk’s sleeping body. “No.” He said. “Looks like you can handle yourself just fine.”


	4. Humor the Kid, Teach the Adult (Scott Lang/Shuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri is curious about Scott’s suit, so he lets her take a look at it. What he doesn’t expect are the adjustments from a kid genius.

The idea that Scott was living with a king absolutely blew his mind.

Scratch that— this entire thing blew his mind. Not only was he living in the same building as T’challa, He was living with the Avengers. The Avengers! He was housemates with a billionaire, multiple galaxy savers, and people who he had fought and even beaten— beaten!— on his own in the past. It was surreal. Absolutely surreal.

He felt so great about himself. And when he told Cassandra about his exploits, he felt even greater.

The girl was absolutely enthralled with his stories. The idea that her daddy had grown to the size of a building and fought Captain America blew her mind, possibly even more than it blew Scott’s mind.

She would listen intently, and gasp at all the right parts of the story. She would laugh, she would cheer. It made Scott so happy that he could impress his little girl.

Cass seemed to be getting along with all the other Avengers as well. It was hard to convince Tony to let her stay, but the alternative was to have her be babysat all hours of the day. So Tony allowed it, and Lang couldn’t have been more grateful. The others treated her kindly, allowing her to watch movies with them, and sometimes they even played board games or read her books.

Tonight he wanted to join the Avengers on a dinner they were doing. He wasn’t invited, per se, but they certainly didn’t decline when he asked to tag along. He was really looking forward to it.

One of the people who was staying back was a young woman named Shuri, who seemed less interested in socializing than she was with her work. He didn’t really know a lot about her other than the fact she was 16 and T’Challa’s little sister.

So he asked her to watch Cass while he was gone.

”Babysit?” The young woman raised an eyebrow quizzically, seemingly asking if he was serious. She was fiddling with some kind of electric device offhandedly as she spoke.

”Yeah, I’m—“ he stuttered, trying to seem adult and cool, like he knew what he was doing. “I’m sorry for the short notice. But, you know. Important work dinner.”

”They’re going out for shawarma.”

”It doesn’t matter what we’re eating. The point is...” he put a hand on Cass’s shoulder. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to see if you could watch Cass.”

”I don’t need a babysitter, daddy.” The little girl responded, crossing her arms and pouting her lip.

”Yes you do, peanut.” He crouched down to look her in the eye. “You need to be watched when I’m gone.”

”I wanna come!”

”Sorry, Cass. This is Adult work stuff.” He looked over both of his shoulders as if checking for someone. “But I’ll see if I can’t tell you some secret plans.” He smiled.

Cass smiled back.

”Sure, I’ll watch her.” Shuri sighed. “But I’m doing a bit of work. I hope she doesn’t mind.”

”Oh, absolutely!” Scott nodded affirmatively. “It’s cool. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

”Why are you busy?”

Scott looked back to his daughter. “You know who Shuri is? She’s the sister of a king.”

Cass looked up at Shuri with awed eyes. “Are you a princess?”

Shuri smiled down at her. “Better. I’m a scientist.”

Now it was Scott’s turn to be surprised. “You are?”

”I created the very suit my brother wears.” She continued messing with the device. “He would not be Black Panther without me.”

”Wow.” Scott nodded, at a loss for words.

”Who is it you are, again?” Shuri asked, genuinely clueless about who he was.

”He’s Ant-Man!” Cass explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Shuri looked down to Cass, eyebrows raised. “Ant-Man?” She looked back up. “The one who can shrink down to molecular levels?”

Scott nodded, confident. “That’s me.”

”I have been interested in your suit and its powers.” She said. “You wouldn’t mind me... taking a look?”

His ego got to his head a little bit, so he nodded. “Sure, Yeah. Go ahead.” He checked his watch and sucked in a breath. “Oop. Time to go.”

”Bye, dad.” Cass said.

”Bye, peanut.” He gave his daughter a big hug, then stood up. “Sorry it’s so last minute.” He said to Shuri.

She shook her head. “It is fine. We’ll have fun.”

As Scott was leaving, he heard Cass talk to Shuri.

”Can we watch a movie?”

”Sure. I will make popcorn. Would you like to help me take apart your daddy’s suit?”

”Yeah!”

He hoped she was joking.

 

* * *

Scott returned about an hour and a half later.

“I’m back!” He said, walking into the common room where he had spoken to Shuri last. It was empty.

He looked around, confused. The TV and movies were in here, so they must have already watched something. They were somewhere else in the building.

He walked down one of the long hallways, calling out his daughter’s name. No responses.

Right when his fatherly instincts started to kick in and he became worried, he heard his daughter’s voice. “Daddy!”

He turned, seeing Cass running towards him with outstretched arms. He sighed, relieved as he heard her voice.

”Hey, there, kid— whoa!” Scott just noticed that her tiny arms were encased in two giant metal gloves shaped like... panther heads? 

“Daddy!” She exclaimed. “Look what I got!”

“Wow, those are...” He was at a loss for words. “Wow.”

”Shuri made them!”

”She did? They look super cool.”

”Thank you.” Shuri said, idly walking down the hallway with a smile on her face. “They are Panther Gauntlet blasters.”

”Panther H— blasters?” Scott furrowed his brow, looking back down at the excited Cass. “Is it— are they— should she be wearing those? Because she’s eleven, and I don’t think—“

Shuri held up a hand. “It’s fine. The safety is on.”

Cass mimicked blaster noises with her mouth, thrusting her hands out like she was punching. “Pew! Pew pew pew!” She reached a hand out towards her dad and yelled “pew! Gotcha!”

Scott feigned being hit on the stomach, stumbling back and sputtering. “Ooh!” He groaned. “You got me!”

Cass giggled. “Shuri also taught me about the Vibrainyum.”

”Vibranium,” she corrected her.

”Vibranium.” The child repeated.

”Cool. Cool, super cool.” Scott wood back up straight, then looked at Shuri. “So, uh— what sounds good to you, payment wise?”

”Payment?”

”For watching my kid.”

Shuri laughed. “I am not exactly pressed for money, so I’m good.”

”Really? Are you sure?”

”Yeah. I like spending time with Cass.” She ruffled the child’s hair affectionately. “You can consider me looking at your suit payment.”

”Really?” Scott repeated. “Alright.”

”I hope you do not mind, but I made some adjustments.”

That stopped him. He hesitated. “Adjustments?”

”The response time should be quicker on the growing and shrinking. Less malfunctions. The particle physics that was put into place was shaky at best. You are often at very high risk when wearing that suit. It is a miracle you are not dead yet.” Shuri responded.

”Wait, so you... you upgraded it?”

”You could call it that, yes.”

He exhaled. “Wow. Okay. Awesome. Thank you so much— for the suit, and for watching my kid.”

”Anytime.” Shuri smiled, then looked back downwards to Cass. “Sorry, Cass. I think I should take those back now.”

Cass whined. “Aww! Can’t I keep them on longer?” She turned to her dad. “Can I play with Shuri longer, daddy? Please?”

Scott nodded affirmatively. “Yeah, sure— Yeah. Go ahead.”

”Yay!” Cas exclaimed, then went back to pretending to blast stuff. She ran back down the hallway, and Shuri laughed.

”Your suit is in the lab.” Shuri said to him before following his daughter again down the hallway, and out of sight. “I hope you like it!” She called after him.

Scott exhaled, then ran his hands through his hair. He had just eaten a shawarma with Captain America, and now he had gotten a suit upgrade from the smartest teen in the world.

This was the best day ever.


	5. Robots and Raccoons (Vision/Rocket)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocket’s always scouting for an easy score in parts. And robots have plenty of disposable parts, don’t they?

“How much?”

Vision looked up from the pot he was cooking spaghetti in. “Excuse me?”

He was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for more than thirty, so he was a little pressed for time. Always on edge a bit when he cooked, he had to be focused, so the voice surprised him. Especially when it came from so near his ankles. As he carefully balanced the wooden spoon he was stirring with in the pot, he was able to turn around.

The raccoon was standing there. On his hind legs, and at first, Vision was surprised. He hadn’t become entirely accustomed to his new housemates yet. Who was this one, again?

His name was... Missile? Blaster? Something like that.

”Some spare parts. How much?” He crossed his little raccoon arms.

Rocket. That was his name. “Parts of what?”

”You. You’re a robot, yeah?”

Vision turned back down to the pot, stirring the pasta. “Not for sale. Sorry.”

”Aw, come on.” Rocket hopped up onto the counter nimbly. Even though he had the intelligence of a human, he still moved and acted like a rodent. Vision jumped.

”Hey— please get off of there. I’m making dinner.”

”I see that, robo-man,” Rocket continued. “Listen, I’ll get off your back. Just gimme a price.”

”Not for sale.” He repeated. “Every part of me is essential for function.”

”Yeah?” Rocket raised an eyebrow. “No spare screws or nothin’?”

Vision shook his head. “No. And please—“ he sighed, looking back up from the pot and back at the rodent. “If you’re going to be up here, at least wash your paws.”

He grumbled, plodding over to the sink across the countertop.

Vision crinkled his brow in disgust, thinking of the dirt that he was tracking over the cutting board. That wasn’t sanitary. He sighed, abandoning his cooking in favor of now washing off the cutting board. After her rolled up the sleeves on his cardigan (he often wore more casual clothes around the house) He picked it up and brought it over to the sink, waiting for the animal to wash his hands.

Rocket ran the faucet, and half heartedly stuck his hands under the water. No soap. After about two seconds, he pulled his hands back out.

”With soap.” Vision chided. “We aren’t animals.”

Rocket laughed haughtily at that, flicking his hands of excess water. “Sorry, guy. I certainly ain’t human.”

”Neither am I, but I understand the betters of good hygiene. Wash your hands.”

He rolled his eyes and groaned, squirting soap into his hand now. “I know you’re not human. That why I asked for some spare parts.”

”Again— no.” Vision repeated. “I have none to spare.”

”C’mon! Everything on Earth has a little something extra.” He finished lathering his paws in soap and washed them off. “Like those IKEA things.”

As he pulled away, Vision piped up again. “Your feet, too.”

”What?”

”You are barefoot, and you tracked dirt over the cutting board.” He held up said board. “It’s unsanitary.”

”What is it with Terrans and sanitation? I know it’s not a human thing, because Quill’s ship looked like a ‘Jackson Pollock’.” Rocket shuddered. “I don’t know what a ‘Jackson Pollock’ is, but after seeing his ship, I don’t wanna find out.”

Vision sighed. “If you wash off, I can help you find parts, if need be.”

”Yeah?” Rocket raised a brow. “What kind of parts?”

”Ones similar to the ones that made me, If Stark is willing to share.”

”That Tony guy?” Rocket turned on the faucet once more. “He hates me.”

”Why?”

”Probably has something to do with me borrowing some of his stuff.”

”’Borrowing’.”

”Permanent borrowing.”

Rocket was finally washed off properly— at least on his paws. Vision had no idea if the rest of his body was even remotely clean, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He had roughly a boatload of pasta to make. After rinsing off the cutting board, he turned back to his pot.

”So you won’t even consider it?” Rocket tried one more time.

”Evem if I did have parts of me to give away,” he seasoned the pasta with salt. “I do not think it would be entirely appropriate to sell them.”

“Fine, Mr. Roboto.” Rocket hopped off of the counter and began to plod away. “Don’t think I’ve given up,” he said as he walked. “I’ll be back with some prices. Well work something out.”

Visoon chuckled as he stirred the pasta, then looked back to the raccoon.

”Hey.”

Rocket turned back around. “Second thoughts?”

”Well,” he shrugged. “Now that you have cleaned your hands... would you like to help me prepare dinner?”

”Hard pass, bud.”

”I’ll check with Tony to see if he’s willing to let you borrow some things.”

He raised a brow. “Temporarily?”

”Permanently.”

Rocket crossed his arms, thinking. After a moment, he put them up in a ‘what-the-heck’ position.

”Alright, robo-guy.” He said, jumping up on the countertop once more. “What’s on the menu?”


	6. Swords and Spears (Gamora/Okoye)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamora admires humans more than she lets on.

Gamora wondered what it was about Okoye that made her admire her.

Maybe it was the fact that she reminded her of her sister.

She thought about it. They were both bald. Both incredibly capable in battle. Powerful. Snarky. Not very emotional. Maybe that was why she was so impressed with her. After all, she had also garnered new respect for her sister.

She swing her sword around her head, voice echoing in the empty training hall. Her thrust was immaculate.

Gamora has trained with her once or twice. Sure, she often liked to do it alone— even though Quill had brought her out of her shell, she was still a solitary creature. Being part of a team was tiring, and if the Guardians were enough, then the Avengers were too much. She couldn’t keep track of all the names and the faces.

Everyone else seemed to be getting along with them. Even Nebula had found solace with a man named Bucky. They didn’t talk. They just would brood together.

She was happy for them.

Gamora swiped her sword through the air of the training room. A vast expanse of gym with perfectly flat ground where she could maneuver with ease. Fighting an imaginary enemy felt better to her than fighting a real one. There was little judgement.

For whatever reason, Gamora couldn’t shake Okoye from her mind. It was odd. A strange fixation, where she could only focus on her. As if she were someone she truly did admire.

Okoye was one of the few people in the building that Gamora liked— save for the Guardians, of course. They hadn’t held a conversation yet, but Gamora was able to dissect her character well enough. She was noble and loyal to T’Challa, and from what she had seen and heard of her battles, nearly undefeated. Very impressive. That was most likely why she admired her; her battle ethic.

But there was something else about her. Her attitude. Her absolute bravery and confidence and never allowing herself to step down to anyone. She was a bodyguard, yes— but she was no one’s servant. Though her job was to protect, she didn’t seem like she was owned. Okoye had agency. A drive to accomplish what she wanted, when she wanted.

It really was admirable.

With a cry, Gamora whipped around her sword behind her so it switched from one hand to the other. She thrust it before her with another battle yell.

Behind her, she heard a door close. Standing cautiously out of her stance, she turned. Okoye.

”Impressive.” She said.

Gamora released a breath fro the energy. “Thank you.” She responded.

”I hope I am not imposing.” She said, spear in hand. “Do you mind if I train as well?”

”Not at all.” Gamora sheathed her sword. 

“Wonderful. I would have anyway.” Okoye smiled mischievously.

Gamora allowed herself a smile back. After a moment, she drew her sword once more.

”Would facing against the most dangerous woman in the galaxy serve as good training?” She offered.

”I hope you like a challenge.” Didn’t miss a beat. No hesitation.

Gamora laughed.


	7. Magic With a Kick (Peter Parker/The Ancient One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker thinks magic is super awesome. The Ancient one teaches super awesome magic. This should work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ask me how the Ancient One is alive ok,,, I know it’s pivotal in Strange’s character arc for them to die but I just love em too much to let that happen to them
> 
> Also YES the ancient one uses THEY THEM pronouns in my canon and you can POST UP

The Ancient One was nursing a cup of tea, sitting in a chair facing the window of the common room. Staring out into the city of New York was a peaceful thing. The sounds of the city were muted by the glass, and they could observe people going about their lives from stories up on the air.

It was silent except for the occasional slurp of tea. There was no one else in the room. They were alone.

Well— not entirely.

”I know you’re there,” they said, still looking out the window, the rim of their cup touching their lip. “You don’t have to hide.”

They had felt the boy’s presence, lingering in the doorway for a little while now. He was anxious to come out to them, for whatever reason. He was a habitually nervous boy; and the Ancient One was fully aware of their odd appearance. That couldn’t have helped.

”Come, now.” They continued when they were met with quiet. “I can feel you there.”

No response again. He had most likely ducked around the corner.

”I made you some tea. I encourage you to join me before it gets cold.”

The very cup they were talking about sat in a saucer on the table beside them. They knew he would come.

They could feel him apprehensively look through the door again, then heard the floorboards groan under his weight as he crept forward. He was very careful.

”You don’t need to be so cautious.” They took another quiet sip. “I’m not a wild animal.”

He finally came into view, slowly. It was the child— Peter Parker. They smiled at him, ever so slightly. He took the cup in his hands, staring at the Ancient One the whole time.

They continued to drink their tea, eyeing him. Their head hadnt moved.

”Do you need my permission to sit?” They asked in a gentle tone.

”No—“ he choked out, the cup almost spilling on his excitement. “No. I’m, uh— I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” They looked back forward as he plopped down in the chair. 

“I, uh—“ he scratched the nape of his neck. “Didn’t mean to be so weird. Creeping around like that.”

”Yes, well.” The Ancient One exhaled. “I understand that I don’t look very approachable.”

”Yeah, maybe a wig would—“

They gave him an indescribable look that had a lot of weight to it. Peter cleared his throat.

”Or... not.” He had to advert his eyes because he was so uncomfortable. He lifted the cup to his mouth again. “I’m sorry.” His voice muffled.

They looked back forward and took another sip of tea.

“Okay, I— can I start over?”

”Go ahead.”

”Okay.” He sighed, sitting up straighter. “I wanna learn magic.”

The Ancient One slurped their tea slightly. This wasn’t a surprise to them. Ever since Peter had met Strange, he was enthralled with everything he could do— the spells and portals especially amazed the boy. Magic really did interest him. They should have expected this.

”You want to learn magic,” they repeated, setting their teacup back in its saucer.

”Yeah, uh.” Peter cleared his throat. “It’s magic, right?”

”You could call it that.” They set down theod saucer on the table with one hand.

”Well,” He said expectantly. “Can you... teach me?”

”It is not a question of if I could teach you,” The Ancient One turned to Peter. “But the question is if you should learn.”

He blinked. “Uh— is this a riddle?”

”Just a question.”

”I mean...” he shrugged. “I think I can learn. I’m pretty sure.”

”And you have faith that I can teach you?”

Peter blinked again, growing increasingly confused. “Well, you’re like... the master. Aren’t you?”

”Retired master, you could call it.” They stared out the window once more. “Strange is the New Sorcerer Supreme. So I am no longer master of anything except what I have achieved.”

”And that’s... magic.”

”Yes. At least my mastery of it.”

”Yeah. You’re the master of the mastery of...” he faltered. “Magic. The point is,” Peter got back on track. “I want to learn.”

”...Peter.”

He almost jumped when they said his name. “You... you know my name?”

”Peter Parker. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” They continued, picking up their saucer once more.

”Wow,” He said, hushed. “I... feel bad I don’t know your name.”

”Ancient One is just fine.” They replied.

”Ancient... okay. You don’t really look that ancient.” He floundered.

”How kind.”

There was a thickness in the air that they broke after a few tense moments.

“I do know your name. What I don’t know is why you would want to learn.”

He inhaled. ”I mean... why wouldn’t I?”

”Why _would_ you?”

Peter seemed at a loss at that. “Well,” he started slowly. “Magic is... pretty cool.”

”And is being Spider-Man not ‘pretty cool’?”

”No. I mean, yes—“ he shook his head. “I like being Spider-Man! But it would be cool to... also do magic.”

The Ancient One hummed, and set down their saucer. They knew for a fact that they could not teach him.

It wasn’t because he couldn’t learn. Not by a long shot. Peter was a very talented boy, with incredible intellect, and he was certainly much more modest than Strange ever was. He had the potential. They had seen it in battle before, and also in his daily life. Peter absolutely could learn magic.

However, there were dangers. Enemies that were far more powerful than any common bank robber or petty thief. They could not, in good conscience, put this child in danger.

But they couldn’t say that to him outright; they recognized from Peter a stubbornness that would not give in. He had already fought powerful foes, and Peter would probably brush off the incredible danger that they could describe. So, they tried a different tactic.

”Mr. Parker, do spiders posses magic?”

He blinked once more, mouth opening slightly this time. “Is this a trick question?”

”Again,” they sipped their tea. “Just a question.”

Peter hesitated. “No. Spiders don’t have magic.”

”And that is your brand, isn’t it? Spiders?”

”I guess, Yeah...”

”Then why do you think you should possess magic, Peter?”

”Because I—“ he stuttered. “It’ll make me stronger! And it looks awesome!”

”Do you not already feel ‘awesome’?”

”Can I not learn it?” He asked bluntly. “Is there like a— a test I have to pass? I can study.”

”There are no tests.” The Ancient One replied. “Anyone can perform magic, given the hard work and dedication.”

”I’m dedicated!”

They were quiet for a moment. “Do you know why I am refusing to teach you?”

”Wait, you’re refusing—?” He stopped, quiet. “No.”

”It is because,” they turned their head to look at him. “You are perfectly capable on your own.”

He seemed shocked at that, and stayed quiet.

”Peter, you are already a very powerful being. Especially for a child. You have fantastic capabilities that do not need to be amplified by our craft.” They took another sip of tea.

”...Really?” He asked, holding his cup closer to his body.

”Really.” They replied, looking back out the window. “The spider with a venomous bite and strong web does not need spells.”

”Is that... some kind of proverb, or...?”

”No. Just a metaphor.”

”Oh.”

”I think it would be unfair to teach you magic. To your enemies. And besides.” She smiled, wry. “Strange would get jealous.”

Peter smiled, then looked down in his cup. “Yeah,” he laughed. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

There was quiet again as the two of them drank their tea simultaneously. The Ancient One’s cup was now empty.


	8. Siblings (Loki/Shuri)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is surprised that Shuri doesnt want vengeance or anything on her older brother.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

Shuri looked up at Loki, dividing her attention from her phone. He had spoken suddenly, and she didn’t expect it— especially since he certainly wasn’t sitting in that chair a few seconds ago. Had he teleported?

”Sorry?” Shuri asked cautiously. 

“You have an older brother, don’t you?” He was sitting with his legs over the armrest of the chair, and resting his head on his fist. “If I’m not mistaken.”

”Yes.” She replied.

”King T’Challa.”

”That is him.”

”Don’t you always get tired of being on the spotlight?” He asked. Innocent question enough.

However, his motives (as almost always) weren’t exactly pure. Loki saw Shuri as some kind of abandoned soul, tossed to the side, left out of the limelight. She was a young girl who never seemed to get attention over her brother. And that could be manipulated into a loyal servant if Loki could play his cards right.

”Why would I be?” She looked back down to her phone.

”Well,” Loki shrugged. “You’re such a smart, capable young woman. I dare suffice to say you’re the smartest person in the world.”

”You needn’t ‘suffice’ anything.” Shuri replied. “I know that I am.”

Loki smirked. Headstrong. That showed good promise.

”Then don’t you think you should have your time in the limelight?”

Shuri looked back over to Loki. “Remind me. You are the trickster god, yes?”

”At your service.” He did a little bow from his seat.

“And you have your own beef with your brother.”

”...well, I wouldn’t call it a ‘beef’—“

”Loki,” she interrupted him. “I love my brother. And though he is the king of Wakanda, that does not mean I feel lesser than him.”

”Who said anything about feeling lesser?” Loki smiled.

“You said it yourself that I am, seemingly, the smartest person in the world.”

Loki was silent. “I did, yes.”

”Then I should be smart enough to figure out what you want from this conversation.”

The trickster god furrowed his brow.

”I am not so easily manipulated, _umhlophe_.” She looked back down to her phone. “You will not get the best of me.”

Loki scoffed. The jig was up, but he wouldn’t bow out so quickly.

”You never get tired of it?” Loki sat normally in his chair now, leaning forward towards the girl. “He gets all the fame and recognition. And you? You get nothing.”

Shuri laughed, loud and strong. “I am the head of all the technology produced in Wakanda. I am the princess, and the key to the Black Panther’s success. And,” she smiled. “The smartest person in the world. There is plenty of recognition to get— if I ever want it.”

He growled, throwing his back into the back of the chair. She really wasn’t giving up.

”Just because your family is messy,” she looked back down to her phone. “Does not mean every one else’s is. You need to get some kind of familial therapy.”

“There is no way you don’t want to seek vengeance on your brother.”

”I have better things to do.” She replied aptly. “Especially better than listening to a man who hasn’t washed his hair in centuries try to bring me to the dark side or whatever.”

Loki scoffed, and stood. This kid was more impudent than he thought.

”Fine,” he grumbled, walking away. “But don’t come crawling to me when your brother inevitably betrays you.”

”You mean like what you did?” Shuri cupped a hand around her mouth. “Because that sounds a little like you!”


	9. Jams (Peter Quill/Tony Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Quill and Tony Stark don’t get along very well, but at least they have one thing they can bond over.

Upon the discovery that the Zune was not the primary music device used on Earth, Peter was genuinely surprised.

”It isn’t?” He had asked Tony in the kitchen as he was raiding the pantry. Said Zune was in his pocket, playing Flashlight by Parliament. “I thought everybody used these things.”

”Yeah, everyone in 2009.” Tony grumbled, watching Peter rifle through all his good food with discontent. It was annoying, but probably understandable that Peter would want Earth food. He had probably only been eating strange alien stuff.

”Really?” Peter asked through a mouthful of white bread. “Kraglin said everyone used these.”

”Kraglin sounds like an alien who doesn’t know anything about Earth.”

Peter shrugged and licked his fingers. Tony looked on in disgust.

”Stop raiding our kitchen. It’s communal.”

”I know what a communal kitchen is. I shared one with six other people.” Peter said affirmatively.

”They must have hated you.”

The song ended, and the next began to play. Father and Son— a very good song. He grinned as he bopped his head to the beat.

”You heard this one before?” He asked Tony, no longer chewing.

”I have, Yeah. And oldie but a goodie.”

”Man.” Peter sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “If this is an oldie, I wonder what new songs are like.

”They’re...” Tony hesitated. “A mixed bag. But there’s a couple good ones I could show you.”

”Like what?”

Tony tapped his chin. “Danke Schoen, there’s this band called AC/DC, another called Red Hot Chili Peppers...”

Peter crinkled his brow. “Band names got weird.”

”They were always weird.”

He shrugged. “Alright, I’ll take a listen.” He pulled out his Zune.

”Ah ah ah.” Tony shook his head. “Not on that old thing. I’m getting you an IPhone or something.”

Peter cocked his head. “A phone?”

”Phones can play music now.”

”Isn’t that awkward? You have to hold it up to your ear, and...”

Tony chuckled. “You have a lot to learn about the modern age.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im legit torn on whether I should have Yondu be alive or not?? Tell me in the comments if I should have him in these stories


	10. Red Energy & Long Coats (Yondu Udonta/Wanda Maximoff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu and Wanda aren’t as different as they seem.

Yondu liked using the arrow to scare the others.

There was nothing quite like whistling, loud and sharp, and having the arrow immediately spring to attention as if it were being possessed. It felt good for him to do, and even though it was mean, he would laugh every time it would rocket in front of his victim’s nose. It would hover there, and not impala the person as they expected.

He liked the respect it got him. This building was full of snarkers, and Yondu didn’t like being snarked at. The arrow was a good way to alleviate that. It would shut them up real quick.

Not all reactions were the same. The kid, Parker, was scared of it the most. Whenever Yondu pursed his lips now, the Kid would flinch.

It reminded him of when he told Peter as a child that he would eat him. Mean, but pretty funny.

And now, he had used it when someone entered his room without permission.

Immediately, with a sharp whistle, the arrow hurled itself in a swift motion to impale this intruder. Yondu’s back was to the door, and he didn’t see who came in. He didn’t like people invading his privacy, and in a setting with more than 30 residents, that was difficult. He was at the end of his rope.

”Now I don’t know if all y’all Terrans are this rude,” he said over his shoulder. “Or if this is just you. But if you ain’t invited, don’t come in.”

A huff, like a breath being released. Yondu turned.

The arrow was not touching the tip of the person’s nose like he had intended— rather, the figure had her hand out, and the arrow was incased with and off red light. Oddly similar to the one that came out from behind when streaking through the air. But... still different.

It was a woman. She had long red hair, a long red coat. And she wasn’t afraid. She just had her hand out, and the arrow wasn’t moving.

Yondu whistled again. It did nothing.

”Hey,” he said, voice rising. “You let go of my damn arrow.”

”You first.” She breathed.

Yondu was quiet, then narrowed his eyes. He nodded, slightly.

The woman dropped her hand, and the arrow clattered to the floor.

”Well, ain’t that somethin’.” He put his hands on his hips, staring the woman in the eye. “Never met a Terran with magick powers ‘fore.”

“...and I’ve never met a Smurf with a steel Mohawk,” she eyed his head. Her voice was nervous, but she knelt talking. “But here we are.”

A smile crept its way into Yondu’s face, and he laughed.

”Alright, Terran.” He put up his hands. “Alright. What didya come in here for?”

”Oh, uh.” She jutted a thumb out behind her. “Dinner’s ready. Guardians thought you might want some.”

”Fine. Next time, I’ll make a sign for my door.” He grumbled, walking by the woman. “You can use your magic to knock next time.”

She furrowed her brow. “No need to be rude.”

Yondu whistled once more— but she had already used her abilities to hold it to the ground.

”And no need,” she said. “To try and scare me.”

It was Yondu’s turn to furrow his brow and give her a look.

”I’m already goin’. Y’don’t have to try’n keep talkin’ to me.”

”It’s not just me. We’re all sick of you using the arrow to threaten people.”

”I ain’t serious ‘bout it, missy.” Yondu replied. “Just bein’ funny.”

”We don’t think it is.”

”Y’ain’t got business messin’ with my things.” He said, voice croaky. “Let go.”

”Stop trying to threaten us, Yondu.”

”So you do know me. And if you know me, you should know my answer— no.”

”Why?”

” ‘S real funny to watch y’all squirm.” He grinned.

The woman exhaled, using her mind powers to levitate the arrow into her hand. “We’re tired of you doing this. I’m going to ask you kindly to stop.”

”Kindly, huh?”

And then she did something that surprised him. She, herself, whistled— and the arrow snapped to attention. Of course, Yondu realized that it wasn’t the whistle itself that made the arrow move. Rather, she was using her telekinesis once more to manipulate it, and now aim it at his own nose.

”Please Stop,” she repeated. “Or I will have to persuade you not-so-kindly.”

Yondu froze. And then he laughed.

”Y’know what?” He said through the laughter. “You’re alright, Terran. You’re alright.”

She was still silent as the arrow stayed in front of him.

”Yeah, Yeah. I’ll stop. Gimmie the arrow.”

She obliged, dropping it. Yondu caught it in his hand and stowed it away in his jacket.

”We ain’t so different,” he smiled, exposing his jagged teeth. “You ‘n I, missy. Powers. Similar fashion sense.” He gestured to their long overcoats. “And we’re both just pretty as a picture.”

That got a chuckle out of her.

”You know my name,” he put his hands in his pockets. “And that ain’t fair.”

She held out a hand. “Wanda.”

”Alright, Wanda.” She took his hand. “Pleasure.”


	11. Muscles (Drax/Steve Rogers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Actually; I have a super serum that helps keep me strong.”
> 
> “That is cheating.”

Drax did not expect Earth men to be so strong.

Peter Quill was a human. And he, certainly, was physically inept in Drax’s mind. He had gotten more fat over the years he knew him. The only reason her survived in battle was because of his technology. He was just a dude.

This made Drax come to the conclusion that all humans were lazy by nature. He thought they all listened to the same music he did, and ate the same food with the same vigor, and wore the same clothes.

But in this building, Drax was surrounded by men. Handsome, muscular men.

One of these men was named Steve. Drax took a liking to him immediately.

”You are a warrior.” He said matter-of-factly to Steve one day.

This took Steve by surprise, because he was eating lunch at the time and didn’t expect this kind of conversation at 11:30. “Huh?” He said through a mouthful of sandwich.

”The Captain of America.”Drax said. “That’s you.”

”Yeah.” He said, voice muffled, still chewing. “You are...?”

”Drax the Destroyer.”

”Huh,” Steve nodded. An apt enough name.

”I have heard stories,” Drax crossed his arms. “That you are a very powerful man.”

Steve wiped his mouth and swallowed. “You could say that, Yeah. I am pretty strong.”

Drax looked him up and down. “Your physique says so.”

”Thanks,” he responded awkwardly. “Yours too.” He eyed his pecs. For whatever reason, Steve had never seen him with a shirt on.

”I know.” Drax responded curtly.

Steve waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. The alien was silent. Was this the end of the conversation? Slowly, Cap lifted the sandwich back to his mouth. But before it even touched his lips, Drax spoke again.

”How is it that you became so strong?”

Steve set the sandwich back down. “Sorry?”

”You way the same foods as Quill, from what I’ve seen. And he is nearly fat. Is there some kind of fighting you do?”

”Well, I was in the military.”

”I was too.” Drax hesitated. “In a way.”

”How?”

”I took part in ritual combat, and slain my enemies with little remorse.” Pause. “It’s the same thing, right?”

Steve shook his head frantically. “No. No, it’s not.”

”Then how did you achieve peak physique?”

Steve hesitated. “Well, hard work. I excercise a lot. And way back, I got a super serum that made me a lot stronger than I was before...”

Drax furrowed his brow, and uncrossed his arms. “That’s cheating.”

Steve blinked. “Cheating?”

”You didn’t become strong on your own. You cheated.”

”I still worked hard—“

”You are a cheater. I’m very disappointed in you.”

Cap blinked again, then sighed. He took another bite of his sandwich. Drax grumbled and shook his head.

As he began to walk away, Quill crossed his path. “Hey, Drax.” He greeted him.

”I do not want to talk.” He replied.

”What?”

Drax glared at him. “Humans are cheaters.”

Then he walked away.

Peter looked to Steve. “What’s his problem?”

Cap shrugged. “Dunno.”

Peter just shrugged back. “Hey, got any more of those sandwiches?”


	12. Tall, Not That Handsome, Needed Saving (Thor/Peter Parker)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of all the people in the building that Peter is most intimidated by, Thor has to be the one he’s most starstruck with.

Thor. It was Thor. It was actually, legitimately Thor, the real life Thor, and he was eating a bowl of soup.

Peter was in the communal kitchen, fixing himself a snack, and he didn’t even notice the Asgardian until he heard a slurp. He turned around, thinking it was the Ancient One drinking their tea. Instead, he was met with the son of Odin, wearing a sweater and eating chicken noodle soup.

Peter whipped back around, facing the open fridge, his heart racing. He knew Thor was here, and he saw him at dinner and stuff, but he had never been alone in the same room as him. It was exhilarating. It was Thor! What were you even supposed to say to Thor?

The teen wracked his brain for something cool to say. He couldn’t just stand there like an idiot and wait for Thor to say or do something. He was Thor. He had better things to do.

” _Hey, how are you?_ ” No. Too basic.

” _What’s up? I’m Spider-Man. You may have heard of me.”_ No, Peter. God. Don’t be an idiot.

” _Oh, hi! I didn’t see you there_.” Yes, he did. How could he miss Thor?!

Peter’s hands started shaking, and he tried to focus on the mayonnaise in the shelf in front of him. He was getting nervous. His knuckles turned white, still gripping the door.

”Hard decision?” Said a prominent, deep voice from the table.

Parker whipped around again, stumbling backwards and almost knocking over the self of condiments. “Uh—“ he caught his breath. “Whuh— Sorry?”

”You have been staring in the refrigerator for a long time.” He took another mouthful of soup, then swallowed. “It must be a hard decision.”

”Ha ha, yeah.” Peter tried to play it off. “Hard... hard choice. Just so many foods, wow.”

”Don’t eat Natasha’s yogurt.” He gestured towards him with his spoon. “She will go mad. They’re the ones on the top shelf.”

Peter nodded frantically. “Right. Yeah. No yogurt.” He confirmed.

Thor just nodded, then went back to his soup.

Parker turned back into the fridge, his face burning red. That was embarrassing. He had to grab something and go do Thor wouldn’t think he was some weird kitchen pervert.

He haphazardly grabbed something and shut the fridge, breathing hard because of the anxiety. At least he picked something.

Thor piped up again. “That is her yogurt.”

”Huh?” Peter looked into his hand. A plastic container of yogurt. He inhaled sharply.

No. Wait. He could play this off.

He made a ‘pfft’ noise. “Yeah, it’s not like— I don’t care.” He rested an elbow on the countertop, but it slipped, and he lost his footing for a moment. He decided to just stand up normally. “I don’t care what Natasha thinks.” His shaky voice said otherwise. He made a mental apology to Black Widow.

Thor shrugged. “Alright. Enjoy.”

”Thanks,” Peter’s voice squeaked. He looked around the countertop for a utensil.

Silence.

”Uh,” he piped up again. “Mr. Thor?”

”Thor is just fine.”

Peter was at a loss for words. “Th-Thor,” he choked. “Where are the spoons?”

Thor pointed at a drawer, and Peter opened it. He grabbed a spoon, and made a hasty exit.

 _God, that was embrassing. That encounter could not have gone worse,_ Peter thought to himself, his face burning. He just acted stupid in front of Thor, and he was ready to linger on that for awhile. Ugh. This day certainly could have gone better.

Before Peter even reached the corner, Thor spoke again. “Spider-child.”

Peter turned cautiously, tucking some hair behind his ear with the hand that held the spoon. “Y-Yeah?”

Thor pat the open seat next to him. “Join me. I do not want you eating your stolen yogurt alone, and, well, if Natasha attempts to kill you then I will defend you.”

Peter smiled so wide he though his face would split. He urgently accepted Thor’s offer, but was sitting a respectful distance away from him.

”Th-thank you, sir.” He caught himself. “Thor.”

”No problem.” Thor smiled, then continued to eat his soup.

Parker could get used to this. Amping up the confidence, he sat up straighter and said “And I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need defending. If Black Widow tried to get me, it’ll be spider-on-spider. Real tough stuff.”

At that point, Nat happened to come around the corner, and Peter let out a scream he wasn’t exactly proud of.


	13. A Doctor and a War Machine (Doctor Strange/Rhodey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey and Strange are men that have lost some bodily function, but gained something new.

Rhodey’s legs weren’t what they used to be.

Of course, nothing seemed to be what they used to be since the fall. Since the wars. His life was never-endingly changing, folding in on itself and morphing into new amalgamations of what it used to be. The responsibility of being an Avenger was heavy; but it was what he signed up for.

What he didn’t sign up for were the aliens and wizards.

Said wizard, aptly names Doctor Strange, sat across from him on the couch. He was flipping through a book using his telekinesis, and Rhodey was just lost in thought. It was an odd spectacle, just staring at the pages flutter of their own accord.

He stood from the couch, with that little bit of struggle he had grown accustomed to. The braces helped support him— but it was Rhodes who had to really do the work. He groaned as he stood.

“Paraplegia?” Strange asked from across the room.

Supporting himself on the armrest of the couch, Rhodey looked over. “Sorry?”

”Paraplegia.” Strange repeated. “Paralysis in the legs. Is that...?”

Rhodey was silent for a moment, and before he could speak, he continued.

”I don’t mean to be rude— I was formerly a surgeon.”

Rhodey nodded in response. “Yup. Can’t do nothin’ from the waist down.”

Strange hummed, and flipped another page in his book. “Just curious, I’m sorry. I know I’m at no liberty to ask.”

The man looked at the wizard’s hands. “My turn.” He said.

Strange looked back up, and saw where Rhodey’s gaze laid. He looked down at his fingers, the scars streaking up them red and still only beginning to fade. He sighed.

“Severe nerve damage.” He said in a heavy breath. “Inoperable. I couldn’t continue my career.”

Rhodey was quiet. 

“Well, that doesn’t really matter now, does it?” The Doctor snapped his book shut. “I’m the Sorcerer Supreme and can do things I never even dreamed of doing.”

”Same here.” Rhodey crossed his arms and smiled. “Though I can’t walk... I can still operate a suit just fine.”

Strange bit his lip, then placed the book on the table. “Could I ask another question?”

He shrugged. “Shoot.”

“How was physical therapy for you?”

It was Rhodey’s turn to bite his lip. His eyes shifted. “Tough.” He admitted. “Tough.”

”I was a real douche to my old therapist,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Rhodey laughed. “Well, now you’re the Sorcerer Supreme,” He said. “So I guess it worked out.”

”I guess it did.”

Rhodey felt a connection to the man, in this moment. They were two people who’s trauma crushed— but they rose above it. Did better things. Learned. Grew. Rhodey’s casts and supports could only bring him so far, and he still fought despite not being able to even bend his knees. And here was another man who grew to protect an Infinity Stone, even if he could hardly even write his own name.

Rhodey chuckled. “Cheers to that. Even though we aren’t what we used to be... we can do just as much, if not more.”

Strange stuck out his tongue. “If you say the word ‘handicapable’, I’m going to puke.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Stop.”


	14. Kids Being Kids (T’challa/Tony Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker and Shuri get along quite well. T’Challa and Tony don’t, but they manage.

When Peter took Shuri to his room, Tony immediately became concerned.

Why should he have been? It was Peter’s business what he was doing. He was a young, hormonal kid— this had to have been expected. Maybe he had a crush. That was fine. Stark told himself he didn’t care.

But why was Tony so worried?

Most likely for practical reasons. If Peter got a girlfriend, he would get distracted. During battle, he wouldn’t be able to focus, and he wouldn’t be able to train properly at home... Yeah, that was it. It was the logical part of it.

Stark couldn’t admit to himself that was a lie.

He knew that, in some weird way, he was a father figure to the kid. Peter grew up without any real parents, you could say, and Tony sheltered him. He fed into his interests and made him feel loved. And, in return, Peter gave him love. In a way, they were like father and son.

These were thoughts that resided only deep inside him, and he most certainly did not allow them to sneak into his conscious.

But what did creep into his mind was that _he should not let this happen. Pure dad instinct, this was a bad idea that he needed to dismantle._

He was already a few minutes behind, as he was lost in thought. Hopefully he could burst into the room before anything happened and things... escalated.

He made his way to Peter’s room, at a hurried pace. He noticed first that the door was shut.

He noticed second that T’Challa had beat him there, and was leaning against the wall with his ear pressed to the door.

The two made eye contact.

”You saw them too?” Tony asked, trying to keep his cool.

”I am her brother,” he replied in a low tone. “I am supposed to worry about her. Why are you here?”

”I—“ Tony couldn’t find a good answer to that. “I don’t want the kid getting distracted.”

”Distracted?” T’Challa raised his eyebrows.

”He— okay.” Tony put his hands up in a ‘wait’ motion. ”You’re spying on them.”

”I assumed that is what you came here to do as well. Making sure that Peter does not get ‘distracted’.”

”Fair point.”

T’Challa jerked his head towards the door. “Come on. We can tag-team if things get out of hand.”

Tony rushed to his side and crouched to his level. He was relieved, but didn’t show it. “Fill me in. Did Peter make a move?”

”No.”

Tony released a breath. “Thank god. Then what’s going on?”

”Nothing.” T’Challa smiled, and stood up.

”Huh?”

”They have been talking about internet memes for the past ten minutes.” The king crossed his arms while talking. “I do not think what you think will happen... will happen.”

”Then why did you freak me out like that?!” Tony hissed.

”I knew you cared about the boy,” He smiled. “But you were too proud to admit it. Don’t be so prideful.”

”I’m not prideful. I’m... self-respecting.”

T’Challa chuckled to himself. “Do not worry, Mr. Stark. Peter is in good hands.”

He clapped a hand on the billionare’s shoulder and walked away. Tony furrowed his brow for a moment.

The door creaked open. “Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice piped up. His face appeared in the doorway. “Is something wrong?”

”No, no.” Tony waved him off, trying to seem nonchalant. “Just fine. Passing through.”

”Oh, okay.” Peter replied, nodding. “I’ll...”

Peter went to close the door again, but Tony stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe. Parker looked up at him, confused.

”Mr. Stark?”

”Just,” he choked out. “Just leave the door open. Y’know. Safety hazard.”

Parker looked at the man suspiciously, then opened the door a little further. “Alright...” he turned and went to go sit down at a desk. Peeking in, Tony noticed that Shuri was just sitting normally in a beanbag chair.

”Is everything fine?” Shuri asked Parker.

”Yeah, Yeah. It’s cool. Sorry, what were you saying?” He sat back down.

”Ah— I called them Sneakers.”

Peter laughed. “That’s good!”

Tony lingered in the doorway for a moment longer than he should have, then walked down the hallway.


	15. Quills and Feathers (Peter Quill/Sam Wilson)

“So it’s like... a bird costume?”

Sam sighed. “It’s not a bird costume.”

”Sounds like a bird costume to me.”

He put a hand to his temple, glaring at Peter Quill. They had gotten to talking about their hero identities, and things took a bad turn when Sam mentioned his outfit.

”It isn’t a costume. It’s a suit.”

”Are all suits nowadays just really thematically appropriate? I’m Star-Lord, but my outfit isn’t patterned with little stars.”

”It’s for functionality. I can fly.”

Peter scoffed. “I mean... me too.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head.

”Do you just really like birds?”

”I don’t—“ he sighed. “Okay, What’s your deal then?”

”My deal?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “I’m a half-god who has saved the frickin’ galaxy twice. That’s my deal.”

”Yeah, ‘Star-Lord’. Real humble.”

”Well, I am!” Peter replied defiantly, crossing his arms. “You’re a birdman.”

”I’m not a birdman. I’m Falcon.”

”Also not the coolest bird you could have picked.”

Sam scoffed. “It’s not about sounding cool.”

”That literally what hero names are for.”

”Well, Fine—“ what would you choose, then?”

Peter shrugged. “You’re friends with Captain America. How about the bald eagle?”

”Then people would call me bald.”

Peter lifted an eyebrow. “They don’t already?”

His laughter could be heard through almost the whole building as Sam chased him.


	16. Neb and Ned (Nebula/Ned Leeds)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I, know, I just— ” the kid grinned so wide his face seemed to distort. “I’ve never met a hero before.”
> 
> “Sorry,” Nebula replied. “You got me instead.”

The Avengers Tower was way, way cooler in person than Ned ever could have imagined.

When Peter revealed to him his new living space (“but you can’t tell anyone, okay?”) Ned was enthralled. It was incredible. His best friend was living just two room doors down from Iron Man. His hero! It was enough to nearly make him squeal with delight.

What actually did make him squeal a little is when Peter invited him to come over.

”Dude,” Ned hissed, shutting his locker hard. “Will they be okay with it? Aren’t they doing hero stuff?”

”I’m practically their best friend,” Peter scoffed, putting on that cool voice he used when he was trying to impress someone. “Of course they’ll be okay with it.”

Ned was excited for the rest of the day.

And finally, when the time came, He was ready. He rehearsed what he would say to each and every Avenger. It would be perfect.

Now, he was here, crossing the threshold from the street into the building. The air smelled different. Everything felt different— or maybe it was Ned’s geekiness clogging his senses. He didn’t care either way. His life was different now.

”Oh, man.” He was bouncing on his toes as he walked inside. “I’m here. I’m actually here.”

Peter, trying to seem cool, tossed his backpack onto the couch casually. “Make yourself at home.”

Ned was shaking. “Oh my god.” He sat down in a chair, and stared at Parker with wide eyes.

After silent moment, Peter asked him “what?”

”Thor’s butt,” he breathed. “Could have been in this chair.”

Peter’s eyes widened as well. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

”I know!” Ned hissed in his excitement. “This is awesome. Totally amazing.”

A few moments passed, then Ned looked around. It was... surprisingly empty.

”Hey,” he leaned forward to Peter. “So... where is everyone?”

Peter looked around as well. “I dunno. Probably doing hero stuff.”

Ned bounced in his seat, grinning. “Cool. Cool... when do you think they’ll be back?” 

Parker shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe there’s some people still here...” Parker turned in his seat and cupped a hand around his mouth. “Hey!” He yelled. “I’m home!”

A voice responded. “Welcome back.”

It was a woman’s voice. A gasp caught in Ned’s throat. Was it Black Widow?

His question was quickly answered when the voice’s net came around the corner. She was bald, had blue skin, the darkest eyes he had ever seen, a cybernetic arm, and horrible case of RBF.

So, no. Not Black Widow.

”Nebula, uh, this is my friend.” Peter turned to said friend. “Ned.”

”Hello.” Nebula greeted him curtly, looking him up and down.

”Hi,” Ned was breathless. He certainly didn’t recognize her, but she was a robot lady with blue skin— of course he was enthralled. Was she an alien?

When she went off to do her own thing on the other side of the room, Ned got Peter’s attention again. “Dude!” He hissed. “Who is she?”

”That’s Nebula.” Peter responded. “She’s from space.”

”Whoa.” Ned breathed, slowly leaning back in his seat. Awesome.

Nervously, the guest stood up and tried to nonchalantly walk over to her. She noticed him when he wasn’t about halfway in his trek.

”Uh—“ his voice faltered. “Hi.”

She just looked him up and down again. “I saw you the first time.”

”I know, I just—“ he grinned so wide his face seemed to distort. “I’ve never met a hero before.”

”Sorry,” Nebula replied. “You got me instead.”

”Yeah, well.” Ned nervously continued. “You’re an alien.”

”And?”

”...that’s awesome?”

She furrowed her brow. Not really knowing how to take the complement.

”You’re a human,” was her only response. “And that’s... subpar.”

And with that, she walked away.

Ned stood there, breathless. Peter inhaled sharply, embarrassed for his best friend.

”Ah, man.” He scratched the nape of his neck. “Ned, I’m sorry—“

”Dude.” Ned replied, turning around to Parker. “I just talked to an alien.”

Once more, his face split in a grin. Peter smiled back, relieved that Ned took it well.

”This is the best day of my entire life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all hit me up with those requests please bc I have No More Ideas Bro


	17. Tricksters (Rocket/Loki)

Rocket groaned.

The stupid parts he stole weren’t functioning right. He was trying to build an enhancement on his already overpowered blaster, but it just wasn’t cooperating. Stupid Earth parts. This junk couldn’t make anything useful.

Granted, he did have to do a bit of dumpster diving to get the parts. But still. He was upset they didn’t work.

He have the blaster a kick. Nothing. Groaning louder, he pulled apart the nose he just attached, them fiddled with the wires.

”Come on, you stupid thing...” he grumbled.

”Having trouble?” A voice said from behind him. Rocket turned around from his work.

It was that Loki guy.

”Oh, you.” He grumbled, looking back to his gun. “Sorry, I thought it was someone important.”

Loki chuckled. “And I thought you’d be able to piece together that little toy.” He gestured to the blaster. “But it seems it’s not going’s how you wanted.”

”Scram, guy.” Rocket waved a small hand at him. “I’m busy.”

Loki sighed. “Everyone seems to be too busy to even talk nowadays.”

”What do you even want?”

”Well, messing with your leafy friend became boring.”

”Ah! Wrong answer.” Rocket grinned devilishly. “I remember hearing that Groot kicked your dumb Asgardian tail.”

Loki was quiet for a moment. “Look, I’m bored.”

”And I’m the person you turn to?” Rocket clucked a part of the gun into place. “Ha! That’s real sad.”

He groaned. “Listen, I haven’t been able to really be myself lately.”

”That’s why it’s been so nice lately.” Rocket said lightheartedly.

”I’m tired of being so nice all the time.”

Rocket cocked the blaster, eyeing the barrel. “Yeah, well. There’s one thing we have in common.”

Loki eyed the scrap parts as well. “Didn’t Vision promise you some better materials?”

Now that grabbed Rocket’s attention. The gun lowered in his hands. His ears perked up and he cautiously looked at Loki. “How do you know that?”

”I’m a trickster god. I have my methods.” Loki smiled.

”Huh, ‘methods’. Anyone can set up cameras or sneak around behind a door, dumb-dumb.” Rocket hefted the blaster up over his shoulder.

”Not everyone can make clones or become invisible, can they?”

Rocket hesitated. “Yeah, well, what’s it to you?”

”I propose a cooperative alliance.” He crossed his arms.

“I don’t do alliances.”

”How about a mutually beneficial program where we each get something we want?”

”I want a lit of things.”

Loki paused and smiled. “How about something you need?”

”I’m listening.” The raccoon said. “But not that closely.”

“You need parts. I want to get into some good old-fashioned mischief. We both like causing trouble and getting away scot-free.”

A grin crept onto Rocket’s face. “I’m listening a little closer now.”

”What say we cause a little trouble?” Loki smirked down at the raccoon and held out a hand.

Not even hesitating, Rocket took it.

”Lets mess some stuff up.”


	18. Date Night (Gamora/Wanda Maximoff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamora and Wanda talk about their boyfriends.

Gamora was already plenty acquainted with humans, but for whatever reason, she had the hardest time finding out what they enjoyed.

Living with Peter Quill as the only human in her immediate vicinity lead to a lot of misunderstandings as to what humans were like. Terrans didn’t all have an unabashed admiration for ‘80’s music’ and David Hasselhoff. They didn’t all sing like Peter did. Hell, most Terrans didn’t really like Peter. They were all incredibly varied in who they were.

And even though she was planning a date for only the two of them, she still felt stressed.

He had been gone from Earth for so long. Would he change, now that he was back? She didn’t know. Peter said that she could choose what they did— but she didn’t know what was considered normal here.

She sighed. Terra was frustrating.

Someone cleared their throat from beside her. It was Wanda.

”Hi.” She said gently.

”Hello.” Gamora responded, curt. She didn’t feel like talking.

”You alright?” She asked.

Gamora hesitated. “Fine.”

”...are you sure?”

For a moment, she was quiet. She didn’t want to talk, but this could be a way of getting information.

”I’m okay,” she said. “I’m just a little... confused.”

Wanda shifted in her seat on the couch. “About what?”

Gamora bit her lip. “Peter... said that I could choose what we could do tonight. For a date.”

The woman nodded. “Yeah?”

”And... I don’t really know what it is Terrans do.”

”Is this your first date?”

Gamora furrowed her brow. That was a good question. They never officially called their hangouts ‘dates’ for awhile. Maybe, technically, it would have been that time on Knowhere. Where she held a knife to Peter’s throat. But she didn’t want to bring that up, so she just shrugged.

”I don’t know, actually.”

Wanda smiled. It was warm, and inviting. “I know how you feel.”

Gamora now looked her in the eye. “What do you mean?”

”Having a significant other who’s...” Wanda trailed off. “Different than you.”

She swallowed, then nodded.

”Yeah.”

”Yeah.”

Gamora scratched the nape of her neck. “This... thing. That we have. It’s still pretty new.”

Wanda sighed. “I remember that. It being new. You don’t need to feel like you have to live up to anything, or put pressure on yourself.”

”It’s hard not to.”

Wanda released a breath. “Well, of he really loves you, then he’ll be comfortable with whatever it is you want to do.”

”I don’t really know what I want to do.” Gamora admitted. “I don’t know... what I should do.”

She hummed. “Well,” she drew out the word again. “What do you enjoy more when you’re around him?”

Gamora thought.

Her train of thought was broken when Peter walked into the room. “Hey, Gamora.” He said, voice friendly. “You got any ideas?”

She exhaled. “Actually,” she stood. “I do.”

”Yeah?”

”How about...” Gamora folded her arms and looked to the floor, almost shy. “We just stay in, tonight. Listen to some music. Is that... alright?”

Quill grinned. “Yeah! Yeah, totally. That’s perfect, because I got this new thing— Tony got me this thing called an ‘iPhone’. It has so much music. It’s the coolest.”

Gamora chuckled at Peter’s giddiness. Apparently, she had made the right choice.

”Trust me, you’re really gonna like it— I’ll go set it up.” He turned and rushed down the hallway, eager to start their date.

Gamora sighed with joy.

”Aw.” A voice from behind her surprised her. She almost forgot that Wanda was there. 

“That went well.” The red-haired woman smiled.

Gamora smiled back.


	19. Do You Know Him? (Sam Wilson/T’Challa)

“Do you know that guy?” Sam asked.

T’Challa turned his head. He was pointing at a cat.

”Sorry?”

”Do you know him?” He repeated.

T’Challa sighed. Falcon had badgered him about this since the day that they had even met. He wouldn’t let go how his “thing” was cats— and since then, he would constantly pester him with cat questions.

It didn’t help that the streets of New York were absolutely littered with the little felines.

”No, Sam.” He responded. “I do not know him.”

”You sure?”

T’Challa sighed again. The cat was licking itself.

”I’m sure.”

Sam wasn’t done yet. ”He doesn’t even look familiar?”

”I have never seen that cat in my life.”

”But you’re the Black Panther,” Sam kept teasing. “You must be able to talk to cats.”

”Even if I could talk to cats,” the king folded his arms. “I would not fraternize with them.”

”Then why do you dress up as a big cat and run around if you hate them so much?” Sam asked back.

”It is an ancestral— you know what? No. I am not indulging you.”

Sam elbowed T’Challa, laughing. “Come on, T. I’m only joking.”

”It’s just not funny.”

”It’s a little funny.”

T’Challa sighed a third time, now putting a hand to his head. “May we just drop it?”

Sam put up his hands defensively. “Fine, Fine.”

It wasn’t even thirty seconds when Sam had pointed out a new cat.

”What about that one?”

T’Challa groaned. “Stop that.”

”It’s just a question.”

”Okay—“ Something caught T’Challa’s attention. A bird, landing on a telephone wire a few feet away. It was a pigeon.

He grinned. 

“Do you know him?” The king pointed at the bird.

Sam shielded his eyes from the sun and squinted to look at hat he was pointing at. As soon as he made out what it was, he groaned.

”Okay, Stop.”

”I am serious!” He kept going. “You are the Falcon. You must be able to talk to birds.”

Sam put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, Fine. I see where you’re coming from.”

”You run around in a bird costume, so you must be able to talk to birds.”

”That— okay, okay. I get it. I’m not even that into birds.”

This was too good. “Then why,” T’Challa asked dramatically. “Would you put on a bird costume and fly around?”

”It’s isn’t a costume—“ Sam sighed, now truly defeated. “Fine. You win. Please stop.”

T’Challa smiled in delight.

Before the king could truly savor his victory, a new voice piped up from a distance. It said “hey, guys!” The two turned to look and see who it was— it was Scott, the ant guy.

”Hey, Lang.” Sam greeted him.

”Hi.” He smiled. “What’s up, guys?”

”I was just asking Falcon here,” T’Challa smiled. “If he knew that bird.” He pointed at said bird. 

Scott turned to look at it. It pooped on the pavement.

”I can’t talk to birds, T’Challa.” Sam groaned.

”And I cannot talk to cats,” He put his hands on his hips. “Let’s call it even.”

Scott raised his eyebrows. He seemed surprised by this. “You can’t?” He asked in disbelief.

The two turned to look at him again. “No?” Sam said with a little lilt in his voice.

”Can you talk to ants?” T’Challa questioned.

Scott nodded. “Yeah, I can.”

Sam immediately piped up, pointing at the ground. “Do you know that ant?”

T’Challa sighed. “Sam, this is a gigantic city, and that is an insect. There is no possible way that—“

”Yeah, I know her.” Scott responded. “That’s Antoinette. Hi, Annie!” He crouched down to the ground so he could see the insect more clearly. 

The two other men exchanged surprised looks.

”And— Hey! Grant’s here too! How ya been, buddy?”


	20. Are You My Dad? (Yondu Udonta/Tony Stark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yondu raised an eyebrow. “You ain’t his daddy?”
> 
> Tony released a breath. “No.” He said.
> 
> Yondu grinned. “Liar.”

The technology that the aliens brought with them amazed Tony— but also, deep down, it made him kind of jealous.

The Guardians has a plethora of tech that completely astounded Stark. Their lightweight spacesuits, the blasters made from salvaged parts— Hell, even that one girl, Nebula, was an anomaly in and of herself. Half of her entire body was cybernetic, with the mechanic parts blending in so well with the organic, you sometimes couldn’t tell which was which. It was incredible, the technological lengths that they had accessed.

They didn’t seem to care, either. They were densensitized to this life-changing technology. The only one that Tony thought he could consult on that was Rocket, but he had stolen some parts from him recently, so he thought he shouldn’t indulge him.

Nebula was cold, distant, and frankly a little scary. He wasn’t interested in talking to her anyway, even if it meant getting valuable info.

Peter, Drax, and groot were absolutely clueless on their technology. Sure, Peter understood well enough, but not nearly enough to give Stark the nitty-gritty details of how his things worked. Drax was incompetent, and Hroot was uncooperative. He didn’t really know to much about Gamora, but she was kind of freaky too. Plus, she likes swords rather than guns.

There was only one alien left to consult.

Yondu was rifling through the pantry, similar to how Quill usually did. It was uncanny. Stark cleared his throat, walking up behind the alien.

”Udonta.” He said, addressing him.

Yondu turned with a box of oatmeal in his hand. “Stark-man.” His voice was raspy.

”Just Stark is fine.”

Yondu grunted and turned back around. “What do you want?”

”I was curious about that...” he gestured to the weird, big metal Mohawk on Yondu’s head.

”My fin?” He asked.

”Yeah.”

”You ain’t got this kinda stuff on Terra?”

Tony shook his head. “No. If it existed, I would have made it.”

He made a face that was between a smirk and a sneer. “You’re real full of it, Stark-man.”

”Please, just Stark.”

”Alright, Just Stark.” His voice was so raspy, he nearly seemed to wheeze. “What is it about my fin? If it’s about me scarin’ y’all’s with the arrow, the redheaded one already told me t’ stop—“

”No, it’s not about the arrow.” Tony paused. “It is, actually.”

”What of it?”

”The fact that you can control things with your mind— I know Wanda can, already, but that’s because of...” he paused. “Information I can’t divulge.”

Yondu just hummed and turned back around to the pantry.

”How is that?”

”I don’t use my mind, boy.” He responded. “I use my heart.”

Tony paused. “Nice daily quote. Real motivational. But I’d like to get a real answer, please.”

Yondu pulled out a carton of orange juice from the pantry, shaking it up absentmindedly. “Y’know what, Stark?” He grinned, his ugly jagged teeth poking out from behind his lips. “We ain’t so different.”

Tony blinked. “Sorry?”

”We’s both very technologically capable.” He unscrewed the cap of the juice. “We’s both strong leaders. People respect us. And we’s both daddies.”

Tony blinked again. “Sorry, back up there.”

”The kid.” He lifted the carton to his lips. “Parker? Damn, his name is also Peter. My son’s a Peter too.”

He furrowed his brow. “You’ve got— you’ve got something mixed up, there.”

”Do I?” Yondu croaked, the carton still at his lips.

”Yes, and—“ he sighed. “Please don’t drink straight from the carton.”

Yondu lowered it respectfully. “So the Peter kid,” he raised an eyebrow. “You ain’t his daddy?”

Tony released a breath. “No.” He said.

Yondu grinned. “Liar.”

”I’m not— why would I be lying?” Tony was getting aggressive, and he didn’t really know why.

” ‘Cause you’re awful proud, and don’t wanna admit sensitivity?” He shrugged. “Me neither.”

”Okay, Listen.” Stark rubbed his temples. “Can you just tell me about your fin, already?”

”You may not be his father, boy.” Yondu lifted the carton to his mouth again. “But you sure are his daddy.”

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Where’d you get that little chestnut?”

”Said it to Quill right before I died in the vacuum of space. It was the only time I ever told him that I loved him more than his birth father did.”

Tony was quiet. Yondu still had the carton to his mouth.

”May I?” He tilted the carton to his lips.

Tony sighed. “Cheers to that.”


	21. To Serve (Mantis/Okoye)

Mantis cocked her head, curious as always.

The woman looked and acted similar to Nebula. But she wasn’t Nebula. She was of Earth. But she was incredibly powerful— and yet, she served someone instead of having people serve her. This made Mantis curious.

Okoye was an intimidating and slightly unfriendly person. Mantis shrunk like a wilting flower around her, not wanting to incur the wrath of a warrior. She was one of the few people that she was truly cautious of— once, she tried to read her emotions, and she nearly punched her. It was similar to when she first met Gamora; but scarier.

Maybe, after awhile, she would become kinder. Mantis tried to speed that process along by smiling at her.

Okoye noticed her staring, and grimaced. “What is that face you are making?”

”I am smiling.” She said through her teeth. “I have gotten better at it.”

The warrior’s gaze lingered a moment, then she turned away. “Uh-Huh...”

”Is it not working?”

Okoye looked back at her. “I can’t say that it is.”

”Oh.” Mantis said sadly. “I am sorry. I have been told that I make people uncomfortable.”

”Just... work on your smile some more. Then you won’t make people uncomfortable.”

”You make me uncomfortable,” Mantos said bluntly. “And people like you, even though you don’t smile. Why is that?

Okoye furrowed her brow. “That is another thing that makes people uncomfortable. Don’t say things like that.”

”Oh,” Mantis said, sadder this time. She looked to the floor. “I am sorry.”

Okoye sighed, feeling pity for the alien. She just seemed so... genuinely sad. She was a hardened warrior, but she wasn’t heartless. “You asked why people like me, even though I don’t smile?”

She nodded, looking back up.

”They don’t.”

Mantis cocked her head. “They don’t?”

She shook her head. “I make other people uncomfortable as well.”

”Because of how scary you are!” Mantis’ face lit up.

It occurred to Okoye that Mantis truly was like a child. She didn’t mean any harm in these statements— she just didn’t have a filter.

”Yes,” She indulged her. “Because of how scary I am.”

”Then who is that person you always talk to?” 

“Do you mean T’Challa?” She asked. “He is my king. I am sworn to serve him.”

”Ah!” Mantis clapped her hands together. “I did the same!”

This caught Okoye’s attention. “You did?”

”He was not a king,” Mantis leaned forward, as if telling her a secret. “But a celestial being. I was his second in command, and used my empathic abilities to serve him.”

Okoye hummed. “I see.”

”But,” She continued. “I had to betray him when he endangered everyone in the universe. He wanted to wipe out all life.” She paused. “Does that make me a bad servant?”

Okoye furrowed her brow again and leaned forward as well, concerned. “Absolutely not.” She assured her. “You did the right thing.”

Mantis sighed in relief. “I am glad. Because... I have had trepidations recently. I have thought about all the kind things Ego did for me... raising me as a larvae. Caring for me like I was his own. And I feel... bad.”

She shook her head. “Anyone who wishes to bring harm to anyone for no reason is not a good leader to serve.” She put a hand on the alien’s knee. “You have made the right choice.”

Mantis smiled. “You feel affection.” She said.

Okoye pulled her hand back, remembering Mantis’ empathic abilities. She didn’t want her emotions to be read— but it was fine.

Mantis smiled wider. “You felt a friendliness towards me! I no longer cause you disgust and discomfort!”

She reached out for a hug, but Okoye leaned back.

”One step at a time, Mantis.” She said.

Respectfully, the alien leaned back; but still smiled.

”Are we friends?” She asked.

Okoye sighed, indulging her one more time. “Yes.” She replied. “We are.”


	22. Literal (Drax/Vision)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This creepy robot man is my new friend.”

“What kind of a creature are you?” Drax narrowed his eyes.

Surprised, Vision looked up. “Sorry?”

”There are very few aliens on Terra, and you are not a human.” Drax paused. “Unless you are just naturally hideous.”

Groaning, Vision put a hand to his head. The Guardians were a bunch that you had to get used to, and the robot counted his lucky stars that most of the time their encounters were... easy. Rocket was a pain, but at least he helped with dinner that one time. Peter was a good person. He didn’t really talk to Gamora or Groot, but he had never met Drax until now.

Well. You only get once chance to make a first impression.

”I am an Android.” Vision tried to answer patiently.

”So you aren’t a human.” Drax confirmed.

”No.” He began to explain. “I am... many things. My body was created for Ultron, I have AI in me from remnants of JARVIS, and the mind stone—“

Drax interrupted. “I was afraid that you were a horribly deformed human.”

”I’m not.”

”That was ostracized from society because of your uncanny and horrifying features.” He continued.

Vision was silent. “Horrifying?”

”You are so strange to look at.” The alien squinted.

Vision furrowed his brow. Was he ugly?

 “You remind me of another ugly person I met,” Drax said tactlessly. “She was a complete horror on the eyes.”

Vision folded his hands. “Were you like this to her as well?”

”I had to be honest about her ugliness.” He crossed his arms. “Or no one else would tell her. She’s accepted it, and now she is ugly and happy.”

”Joy.” The android mumbled, wondering what he was supposed to gain from this conversation.

The lack of response made Drax confused. ”...are you offended that I called you ugly?”

”Yes.” Vision replied immediately. “Yes, I am.”

”Well, you aren’t exactly ugly. You’re creepy. You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Offended, Vision made a face.

Drax hesitated. “I don’t mean it as an insult.”

Vision furrowed his brow again. “I am not very antiquated with the nuances of casual speech,” he said. “And even I realize how tactless it is to call someone creepy.”

”Ah.” Drax replied. “It’s not bad to be creepy.”

”What are you trying to say?”

“That I wanted to befriend you.”

No joke. He was completely serious.

Vision blinked. “How,” He said. “Could I possibly infer that you wanted to become my friend after calling me horrifying?” The Android was amazed at the alien’s line of thinking.

”Honesty is a valued trait in a friend.”

Hesitating, Vision thought. He legitimately considered what Drax was attempting to say.

”How familiar are you with metaphors?” Vision asked. “And the more ambiguous, symbolic forms of speech?”

Drax made a confused face.

”That explains a lot.” Vision sighed.

He wasn’t intentionally trying to be malicious. He wasn’t insulting him purposefully. Drax was attempting to connect with Vision in some odd way— what confused him was why he thought that this would work.

”Tell me something,” Vision said. “The girl you mentioned before.”

”The ugly one? Mantis?”

He was talking about Mantis, the more pleasant of the Guardians. She was completely harmless. Vision blinked, baffled as to why Drax would insult her like that.

”Is she... your friend?”

”No.” Drax said. “She is like a daughter to me.”

Vision raised his eyebrows, surprised at that. He really did have good intentions. But, unfortunately, most people would stoop listening to Drax and dislike him as soon as he said something like he did before. Vision shuddered at the thought of a good person being misinterpreted.

”Well,” the android shrugged. “I will be your friend.”

Drax smiled. 

“If,” he continued. “You will allow me to teach you the betters of speech— and possibly manners.”

Drax squinted. “I don’t need to know that.”

Vision sighed. “One day, you might insult someone, and they won’t realize that you’re actually trying to complement them.”

”Then that is their problem. They are stupid.”

”My point is,” Vision tried to get back on track. “I also used to struggle with connecting to others. I am still awkward, and as your new friend, I would like to help you.”

”I don’t struggle with connecting.” Drax responded. “People love me.”

Hesitating, Vision tried to figure out how to appeal to his sensibilities. “Well,” he said. “Think of it not as ‘correcting’ you— but making it so other people understand you better.”

Drax was quiet.

”We aren’t fixing you; we’re fixing other people through you.”

”Ah.” Drax nodded, smiling. “I knew I wasn’t the problem.”

Vision sighed. The two had some work ahead of them.

At that moment, Gamora walked into the room. The two turned to look at her. She furrowed her brow, and looked at Drax. “What’s going on?”

”This creepy robot man is my new friend.” He responded.

Gamora sighed and put a hand to her head. She looked at Vision. “I’m sorry about him.”

Vision shook his head. “It’s fine.” He smiled.


	23. Loyal Garment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cloak of levitation is an odd article of clothing, but a good friend.

The floating cloak wasn’t the weirdest thing that was in the tower, but it really was up there.

It moved of its own accord, and while that was amazing (and also its whole “thing”— it being called the cloak of Levitation and all) it seemed to also have its own personality, its own wants. It was entirely sentient. And that made interactions with it and others in the building... odd. It could form relationships, and that was even stranger.

Speaking of Strange, the cloak was most loyal to the doctor, maybe even more than anyone else in the building. It stayed by his side (or, more appropriately, on his shoulders) and didn’t falter. Thought it was a fickle garment, it solidified its relationship with him strongly by assisting him whenever it could. It was a friend— and a helpful one at that.

Stephen was scouring his room, mumbling something under his breath. The cloak was hanging on his shoulders, an imitation of a normal piece of outerwear. He was looking for something intently.

As he was looking, Rocket rounded the corner from the hallway to the open door. The raccoon walked into the room, seemingly with a purpose. He froze when he saw Strange there. The man turned to look at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Hello?”

”Uh. Hey.” Rocket responded.

After a second, Strange continued rummaging. “Did you need something?”

Rocket scratched behind his ear. “No, no. Nothing at all. Just coming to say hi.”

”Hi.” Strange said, no longer paying attention.

The raccoon furrowed his brow. “You, uh... you looking for something?”

”The Stunning Staff of Starutia.” He replied aptly, opening his closet doors. “An ancient weapon imbued with great magic. And, somehow, I lost it.”

”Wow, that’s real irresponsible of you.” Rocket said.

Sighing, Strange waves his hand in a ‘go away’ motion. “Unless you have it, I’d like you to leave. Im a little focused right now.”

”Okay, got it.” Rocket turned to leave.

Before he could step out the door, the cloak flew off of Strange’s shoulders and flew to Rocket. It blocked his only exit.

The hem of the cloak reached out, like a hand, and wrapped around something that Rocket had been holding behind his back. With little protesting, it was able to wrench it out of his paws. It was the staff.

Rocket sighed. “Damn it.” He muttered.

The cloak flew back onto the shoulders of Strange, who was still engrossed in finding said staff. It knocked the staff on his shoulder, as if tapping it, to get his attention. The doctor turned, and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

”Where was this?” He looked at his collar when he spoke.

The hem pointed accusingly at Rocket.

Stephen narrowed his eyes at the raccoon who quickly scampered away with a “glad I could help!”

Rocket wasn’t the only person who didn’t really like the cloak. Drax still distrusted it because of it attacking him on Titan. He also still referred to it as a ‘blanket of death’. The cloak paid him little mind. Many of the others were openly uncomfortable with it, avoiding it when it was around, and being wary when Strange wore it.

It cared little about these people as well.

But at times, it showed that it did care. It wasn’t always a quiet snarker— it could show genuine emotion, despite not having a face. Though rare, it expressed sentiments towards others when sad, offering a consoling pat on the shoulder with its hem, or even pulling out a tissue.

This happened once when Cass was crying. She had just lost a lucky penny that her father picked  up during a mission.

The cloak had flown off of Strange’s shoulders and pulled her a tissue with its corner. She took it, cautious, and blew her nose. The cape ruffled his hair with another edge of its flowing back, and she couldn’t help but smile.

”Thank you, floaty cape.” She said.

Though it was cold, and sometimes distant, the cloak of levitation was a compassionate, if not hard to understand article of clothing. It really was one of the most headstrong and loyal members of the team.

It also gave good hugs.


	24. Rabbit

“Rabbit, hand me the butter knife.”

Loki looked around the room, confused. Thor had spoken, but he was unsure of who he was addressing. There were few people in the room other than his brother, Thor himself, Rocket, Nebula, and Peter quill. It was breakfast, and there were no rabbits to be seen. What surprised him even more was when Rocket handed him said knife, with a grumble.

”He was talking to you?”

”It’s his fun little nickname for me.” Rocket grumpily took a sip of coffee.

Loki looked at him, confused. “You respond to that?”

Rocket shrugged. “It’s better than trying to correct him.”

Thor spread butter on his bagel, looking confused. “Huh?” He genuinely had no clue what was happening.

”Brother,” Loki sighed, exasperated. “He isn’t a rabbit.”

Thor looked to Rocket, then back to Loki. “Yes, He is.”

“He isn’t.”

”Then what is he?”

”He is a fox.” Nebula said from the fridge, observing different packages of bread.

Rocket groaned and rolled his eyes, distainfully downing the rest of his drink.

”He is not a Fox, either!” Loki exclaimed. “Why do none of you have a basic comprehension of animals?”

”We talking about Rocket?” Peter took off his headphones. He was sitting at the end of the table, oblivious to the situation, but now apparently his attention had been taken. 

“Yes.” Thor replied. “He is a rabbit.”

”No, he’s not.”

”Fox, then? Like the blue one said?”

”Not that, either.” Quill shook his head.

Thor slammed his bagel onto his plate. “Then what is he, damn it?”

”Apparently, none of you know what a raccoon is.” Peter replied.

”I am not a raccoon!” Rocket slammed his fist on the table.

”Yes, you—“ Peter sighed angrily. “Why do you have no problem with being called a rabbit, then?”

”I would rather be called a rabbit than a raccoon.”

”Why?” Peter hissed.

”A good question.” Loki piped up.

”He could be a rat.” Nebula chimed in once more, putting a loaf of bread back into the pantry. “Or some kind of vermin.”

Rocket bared his teeth. “Don’t call me vermin.” He snatched the butter from Thor’s plate.

”Or a hamster.” Thor said through a mouthful of buttered bagel.

”Maybe a mistrimmed dog.” Loki said.

”I still think he’s a trash panda.” Peter smiled.

”Let’s settle for ‘an annoying woodland creature who refuses to contribute’.” Nebula Shut the pantry door and sauntered over to the table, stealing the butter from Rocket’s paws and slathering it on her own bread.

”Any of you call me any more animal names,” Rocket muttered. “And I’m gonna lose it.”

Peter snapped his fingers. “A weasel. A gross weasel.”

”We cannot call him a weasel,” Thor interjected. “We already have one.”

”Who?”

”My Brother.”

Nebula laughed. Loki punched Thor in the shoulder.

”That’s not nice at all.” 

Quill shrugged. “Well,” he said. “What do you think Rocket is, Then?”

Loki turned to said Rocket, and surveyed him up and down carefully. He put a finger to his chin, deep in thought. Then he snapped his fingers, satisfied.

”A skunk.”

The four of them laughed uproariously. Rocket groaned again.


	25. Thematically Coherent (Scott Lang/Peter Parker/Mantis)

Of course, Ant Man, SpiderMan, and Mantis had quite a bit in common.

It wasn’t just their bug related names, although that was a very big part of the connection process. In fact, it was the only reason that they were really encouraged to hang out together. It kind of started a couple conversations.

”So,” Peer had said, around the other two. He turned to the alien first. “Your name is Mantis?”

She nodded at him, eyes wide. “Yes.”

”Oh,” he smiled. “I’m Spider-Man.”

Scott leaned over to the kid and said “Actually, that’s her real name.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “What? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Weird.”

Parker mumbled under his breath, “Man. We should just introduce ourselves by our real-people names.”

Mantis cocked her head to the side, looking at scott. “And who are you?”

Scott perked up. “Oh— I’m Ant Man.” He caught himself. “Scott. My name is Scott Lang.”

Mantis giggled. “We all have bug names.” She said.

The three of them exchanged glances, and Peter laughed. “Yeah.” He smiled. “We do.”

At first glance, they didn’t seem to have much else in common. Scott was an ex-con and now loving father, Peter was a high schooler with incredible intelligence, and Mantis was a socially clueless empath. It didn’t seem like they could click— but beyond all odds, they did. Somehow, they found common threads between them other than their insectoid branding.

Scott was a natural with children (even though Peter would get defensive if he were ever called a child) and a teen boy and a child-like alien weren’t too tough to crack. He knew how to talk to them, handle them like real people, like some people would have trouble doing. He humored them, listened to them. He understood their dumb jokes— and in a way, he also took care of them. 

When Peter got home from school, he would walk Cass home as well (her school was on the same path as his) and they would return to the tower to be met with apple slices and peanut butter as an after school snack. Scott would pick up his kid, smiling, then grin at Peter as well.

”Hey there, peanut.” He said to his daughter. “How was your day?”

”Good.” She smiled.

”Great.” He turned to Parker, and the teen was almost certainly surprised that he did. “How about you?”

”...good. It was good.” Peter was taken aback. He couldn’t remember the last time that someone other than aunt May asked him how his day was.

Scott put down Cass. “I’ve got some apple slices for you. Want some?”

”Yeah! Thanks, dad.” She ran to the kitchen counter to get her snack.

Lang turned to Peter. “You want some, too?”

”Yeah! Yeah, sure. Thank you.” He smiled.

Peter and Mantis got along great. The two of them were childlike in their excitement, and surprisingly, they shared appreciation for many of the same things. They were both generally peaceful, and they had gotten along better after their encounter on Titan.

Peter had actually confronted Mantis on this, apologizing for when he attacked her in defense.

”So,” he scratched the nape of his neck. “I wanted to say sorry. For what happened on that alien planet.”

Mantis cocked her head, a common mannerism she used when confused. “About what?”

”Y’know, when I got all freaked out and shot webs at you. I thought you would lay eggs in me...” he trailed off. “You can’t lay eggs, can you?”

she hesitated, then said “no.”

The pause didn't really ease Parker’s concerns, but it was fine enough. “Cool,” he breathed. “Okay. Just wanted to say sorry.”

”It is fine,” she started; then changed her tone. “But why would you think that I would implant eggs in you?”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Have you ever seen this really old movie, Alien?”

An hour and a half later, they had popped popcorn, and were on the couch with the DVD in. Mantis had never seen a movie before, and this one seemed fitting enough. She appeared to be enjoying it, but when the movie got to a scary part, she would grab Peter’s shoulder tightly.

”It’s okay,” he said to her, concerned. “Don’t be afraid. It’s fine.”

”These creatures are terrible!” She exclaimed. “Why would you think I would do that to you?”

”Hey, Hey— it’s okay. You should be scared. It’s not real.”

Her antennae glowed, and She furrowed her brow at Peter. “Then why are you afraid?”

To avoid the question, Parker mumbled “it’s been awhile since I’ve seen this...” and crammed more popped corn into his mouth.

Mantis and Scott seemed like the oddest pairing of all— but, truth be told, they were actually good friends. Mantis made a good babysitter when Lang wasn’t around, and Cass loved her. They would play with one another, Mantis never growing tired because of her energy and childlike interest. Scott genuinely enjoyed her company and support.

One night, when Mantis had pulled Cass to sleep, she came out of her room to find Scott standing there.

”Hello, Scott.” She smiled. “Cassidy is asleep.”

”Great, awesome.” He sighed. “Thanks. I mean it.”

She smiled even wider, happy about the praise. “You are welcome.”

Lang nodded, and before her could turn and walk away, Mantis continued.

”I have never served such a kind master before.”

Scott blinked. “Sorry,” He said. “Master?”

“Are you not my master?”

He awkwardly swallowed. “Uh,”

”I take care of your child,” she said. “And I serve her while you are away. Does that not make me your servant?”

”No!” he choked out. “God, no.” He laughed nervously. “You’re just doing me a favor.”

Mantis furrowed her brow, and cocked her head.

”You,” Scott sighed, trying to figure out how to explain the concept of favors to an alien. “You’re just helping me.”

”Yes!” Mantis brightened. “That is what a servant does.”

”Or a friend,” Lang interjected. “A friend. You’re being friendly.”

”A friend?”

Scott’s heart fell. “Oh my god— you do know what friends are, right?”

”Yes. I have a few friends.” Mantis confirmed.

He exhaled. “So, I am not your master. I’m your friend.”

Her eyes widened. “We are friends?”

He nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”

Mantis grinned so wide, Lang thought that her face would split. “I have gained more friends,” she said through her smile. “Than I have ever imagined! Thank you, Mister Ant Man!”

Scott has to hold back an “aw”. He smiled back at her. “And I’m glad I could be one of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I know chapters have been kinda short lately and im sorry about that  
> I was thinking of something to get me motivated— if anyone wanted to write their own “unlikely” one shot I would be more than happy to put it in the collection! If you write one, show me!


	26. Games (Tony Stark/Groot)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is appalled at Groot’s meager means of entertainment.

The fact that the tree liked video games wasn’t the weirdest thing— it was the fact that he only ever played one.

For someone so interested in handheld video games, Groot apparently only owned an old copy of Galaga that he would play relentlessly. He must have beaten it many times over, and yet he continued to play. Nothing else, just Galaga. Either he didn’t know that other games existed, or he just wasn’t interested, for some reason.

Tony wasn’t against showing him some choice games.

He wasn’t exactly a hardcore gamer or anything, but being knowledgeable about tech lead him to wanting to learn the nitty-gritty of just about everything— including video games. So he was well acquainted with the more modern consoles and titles. And he was actually kind of excited to introduce the riveted tree-Kid to some good ones.

He had purchased a PS4 and a 3DS, along with a couple games to get him started. Holding the plastic bag with the gifts, Tony entered the common room, where Groot was relaxing.

Stark approached Groot, who, unsurprisingly, was attached to his device.

”Hey, kid.” He said, sitting down beside him.

Groot, of course, did not even look up. He was still engrossed in his game.

Stark smacked his lips. “Good game, I assume?”

Silence again.

“You really bring ‘vegetating’ to a new level.” Tony sighed.

Groot gave him a teenage glare.

”You know... because you’re a—“ he sighed again. “Forget it.”

He turned back to his game.

Stark tried to move into his line of sight. “Can I at least get a hello?”

”I am Groot.” He mumbled, continuing to tap away at the tiny D-Pad.

”Close enough.” Tony placed the bag on the table.

”I am Groot.” He said a little louder. From his tone, Tony assumed that he was asking ‘what do you want?’

”No need to be rude. Just trying to start conversation.”

”I am Groot.” The kid replied mockingly.

He furrowed his brow. He didn’t really speak Groot, but he could infer what that one meant. Geez. This teen was impossible. Peter Parker was a teenager, and he certainly didn’t act like this.

”Hey, if you’re going to give me that lip, then I’ll just leave.” Stark said, more stern.

Groot didn’t respond, and kept on playing.

Tony sighed dramatically and stood, picking up the bag with him.

”Oh, well.” He whined, walking away. “Looks like I’ll go.” He paused. “And take all these new games with me.”

The video game sound effects faltered. He had caught Groot’s attention.

”So much nice, new stuff in here.” Tony marveled. “But I guess if you don’t want it, I’ll give it to Parker. He’ll appreciate it more.”

Groot immediately put down the game and whipped his head around, facing Tony now. His eyes were wide. “I am Groot?” He asked.

Tony feigned innocence, looking at him. “Oh, this?” He raised up the bag, pointing at it with his free hand. “Just some stuff I picked up.”

”I am Groot!” He exclaimed.

”You want it?” He asked, like he was asking a puppy to play. “This?”

“I am Groot!” He said louder. He had put out his hands in a desperate gesture.

”I don’t know...” Stark said apprehensively. “You seem to like that game a whole lot.”

Groot immediately picked up the tiny little game console and threw it across the room with all his strength. It hit the wall, and fell to the floor (unbroken, thankfully). The tree turned once more and looked at the man with a ‘now, please?’ expression on his face.

Tony pretended to contemplate it for a moment, stroking his chin. He knew he already had Groot hooked— he just liked to watch him squirm. “Hmm...” he pretended to decide. “Alright. They’re all yours.”

Groot’s fade lit up in a smile and he snatched the bag out of Tony’d hands. He opened it, and admired its contents like a child on Halloween. He grinned wide and exclaimed “I am Groot!”

”Anytime, kid.” Tony put his hands in his pockets. “Just promise me no more teenage sass, Alright?”

His head nodded up and down rapidly.

Stark knew for a fact he was going to break that promise, but he let it go anyway. “Okay. Enjoy.”


	27. Movie Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s movie night, and everyone is here.

Movie night really was a mixed bag.

It was Peter Parker’s suggestion— something to help boost team morale and get the more reclusive members of the team to open up. It would serve as both team building an recreation time for constantly stressed people with stressful jobs. Either that, Or he just wanted to have a slumber party with his heroes. It was unclear which one he wanted most. Either way, Tony actually accepted the idea, and made mandatory movie nights every Friday.

Though releuctantly with some people, everyone eventually made their way to the common room every Friday night to watch a movie and unwind. And, even to the more cynical members of the team, it was a fun, relaxing, and exciting way to hang out. Everyone usually enjoyed themselves, to the releief of Stark.

Each night, they would draw names to find out who would pick the movie. And more often than not, the results were... interesting.

The first night, Vision got to choose, and he picked out ‘A.I.’ He didn’t really know what it was about— he just chose it because ‘it was the one he would probably understand the most.’ Ironically, he wasn’t really a fan.

That was kind of funny, but what was less funny was when Quill got his choice, then made everyone watch Footloose while he made commentary at all the good parts. It was a little irritating. Quill kept giving looks to Peter, as if he picked out this movie specifically to prove something to him.

Once, when Nat got to choose, she picked out Legally Blonde and that surprised everyone, but no one was brave enough to comment. Shockingly enough, Gamora also liked it because of the ‘power struggle’. The two became closer over it. Everyone else had a good time watching it too, once they avoided Nat’s nearly daring glares.

The one time that Cass pulled her name, she made this group of adults watch Pocahontas. Not everyone was entertained, but they sucked it up to humor the kid. Thor sang ‘Colors of The Wind’ with her as soon as he picked up the lyrics.

But tonight, it was a randomized choice. Everyone had put their name in a hat, and Tony was about to pull it out.

”Tonight’s film will be chosen by...” Stark said as Bruce did a mock drumroll by patting his legs. He picked out a slip and read it. “Peter Parker himself.”

Parker grinned. “Really?” He asked excitedly.

”Yup. Pick your poison, kid.” He threw the slip back in the hat and set it down.

”Oh, man!” He exclaimed. “Okay, Okay. I promise I’ll choose a good one.”

”I’m sure you will.” Steve smiled from beside the microwave, finished popping the sixteen bags of popcorn needed to feed this entire group. He gave him a thumbs up.

“Please no Disney movies.” Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t feel like listening to any more princesses sing.”

”What is wrong with a good princess song, brother?” Thor asked him.

”I’m just tired of it.” He sighed. “You enjoy them far too much.”

”I enjoy them just enough.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “I won’t, I won’t...”

”Hey, choose a good one, kid.” Quill said. “I have faith in you.”

”Thanks, Mr. Quill.”

He then after a moment, continued with “like one of the best movies of all time—“

”Stop talking about Footloose.” Gamora sighed, her arm slung around Quill’s shoulders.

”It was good! You saw it! You agree, right?”

His girlfriend hesitated. “...yes—“

”It doesn’t count. You paused.” He mumbled, disappointed.

”You know, if you’re gonna choose something,” Rocket piped up. “Choose something with a lotta guns. Something exciting.”

”Sure, Yeah.” Peter said. “I can do exciting.”

”I agree.” Nebula replied. “The movies we’ve watched have, by far, not had enough violence in them.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “You want violence?”

”Footloose could be classified as violent!” Quill piped up.

”They danced,” Nebula said flatly. “Instead of having actual battles. If ever put in any combat situation, they would die instantly.”

”Besides, the last couple movies were so boring.” Rocket groaned.

”What was wrong with Pocahontas?” Thor asked defensively.

”No explosions.” Bucky offered, shrugging.

”Why even bother watching anything if it doesn’t have big explosions in it?” Rocket asked, genuinely confused. “I’d like some explosions, please.”

“That sounds fantastic.” Drax concurred.

”I actually agree with that.” Bucky raised his hand.

”Ha! See?” Rocket exclaimed. “Metal-arm agrees with me!”

Bucky furrowed his brow at being called ‘Metal-Arm’, but didn’t say anything about it.

“We are not watching a big fight-fest.” Rhodey interjected. “I want this movie to have some semblance of substance.”

”Whoa! Big words!” Rocket exclaimed mockingly.

”I second that.” Strange crossed his arms. “I’m not interested in watching a couple of people punch at each other for an hour. That’s our jobs.”

”What’s so bad about punching?” Steve asked, already eating the popcorn. “It’s fun.”

”If you are not doing something to better yourself,” Wong said sagely. “Then it is not worth doing.”

Rocket mimed throwing up, and Gamora smacked the back of his head.

”See, I’m kind of torn between both the punching and intellectualism,” Bruce offered. “Cause both of those things are kind of... my things.”

Everyone looked at him.

”What?” He said sheepishly. “Can’t we just have both?”

”I am Groot.” Groot still had his game in front of him, not looking up. Rocket laughed.

”What about a romantic film?” Vision asked, trying to keep the peace. “That could be wholly entertaining.”

”That sounds nice.” Wanda snuggled closer to Vision. He smiled down at her.

”Oh, romance!” Mantis smiled, clasping her hands. “How lovely!”

“I agree.” Drax said.

Peter was surprised at that. “Really?”

”Yes, romance is beautiful.” He said. “My parents would tell the story of my conceivement every—“

”Okay, Drax—“ Gamora cut him off. “I know we usually just let you play this out, but Peter is a child. Just stop.”

Reluctantly, he complied. “But I still like the violence.” Drax said. “Can you think of any movies where two lovers attempt to kill with one another, or better yet...” His voice got low. “Each other?”

Peter hesitated. “I can’t say that I can, no.”

”That would be the most brilliant tale of all time.” Drax clenched his fist. “Two lovers, fighting enemies side by side...”

Quill said “that’s basically me and Gamora” at the same time Vision replied “like Wanda and I.” The two exchanged looks with one another.

Parker’s face flushed red.

”So... romance.” He breathed. “Okay.”

”But...Yeah.” Scott said. “Kid friendly. I know Cass is in bed right now, but you’re still a kid.”

”I’m sixteen.”

”Still a kid.”

Yondu stuck out his tongue. “Yeah, I agree with the Ant-Man. Nothin’ too heavy on the romancin’.” He pointed at Parker. “You’s still practically just a baby.”

”I’m sixteen.” He repeated, embarrassed.

”I’m s’prised you can even walk.”

”We should binge a TV show.” Shuri grinned, and Peter’s mentally thanked her for getting the embarrassment off of him. “Like Brooklyn Nine Nine, or The Office. Those are just rife with memes.”

“Yes! I love a good meme.” Scott said excitedly.

Shuri lifted a brow.

”What? I’m hip! I’m a cool dad, I know what memes are.”

”What is a meme?” Thor asked genuinely.

”Peter and I will educate you later.” Shuri turned to the Asgardian, trying to hold back laughter. 

“I want to revisit the intellectual movie option.” Strange interjected, raising his hand.

Wong nodded his head. “I second that. The mind is only strengthened when it is stimulated.”

”Blah, blah, blah.” Nebula crossed her arms, glaring at Wong. “I feel like my mind is weakening when _you_ talk.”

Rocket groaned. “Nobody wants to watch a bunch of people sit around and talk for awhile! Like that stupid Legal Blondie movie.”

”You are not going to malign Reese Whitherspoon,” Natasha growled. “When I am sitting right here.”

”Reese Whither-who?” 

Nat groaned, and said “Just choose something good.”

”Something good, huh?” Tony raised his eyebrows before Peter could say anything. “Well, how about that four part documentary that was made about me?”

”Or the one about me.” Steve chimed in. “That’s an exciting one.”

”You have your own documentaries?” T’Challa asked.

”Oh, you don’t?” Stark feigned innocence.

”I don’t need one. I am a king.”

Okoye narrowed her eyes at Tony, who stepped off.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Stop it, you guys.” He said. “No need to compare sizes.”

”Oh, I’m sorry Sam. Do you feel left out? Do you not have any documentaries of your own?” Stark once again asked innocently, now turn in from the king to him.

”Lay off, Stark.” Rhodey responded. “No need to try and goad him on.”

“Yeah, Tony. Stop ‘flexing’.” Scott interjected.

Okoye finally piped up, apparently reaching her limit. “Does anyone else have any opinions they would like to share?”

Quiet.

The Ancient One piped up. “I don’t have any preferences.” They took a quiet sip of tea.

Loki crunched some popcorn, engrossed in the conversation. “Really, I’m perfectly entertained watching you all argue.”

Peter finally interrupted them, overwhelmed. “Okay!” He said. “I made my decision.”

Everyone turned to look at him.

”... Have you ever seen this really old movie, Alien?”

Tony groaned.


	28. The Bird and the Spider (Clint/Natasha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two birds with one stone bro

Clint crossed his arms. He had been in some pretty strange situations in his life. But this would probably take the cake.

Tony proposing this idea sounded absolutely crazy. Completely bonkers. Suggesting that he live in the same building as multiple aliens, some criminals, even, not to mention the very team he left and a couple of strangers thrown in for color. It was ridiculous. He didn’t trust it. “Come on,” Tony said. “It’ll be safer, we can all work together,” he said. No way, no how.

Clint had retired from hero business. He had a family now. And he wasn’t about to give that up.

But here he was, still. In the tower. Thankfully, not accompanied by any aliens/criminals/strangers.

In a few moments, though, he was accompanied by an old friend.

”Clint.” Natasha said with surprise. He looked up. “...nice of you to drop by.”

”Nice to be here.” He lied.

”What is— why are you here?” She squinted. “Don’t you have your family to be with?”

”Yeah, well.” He sighed, uncrossing his arms. “Had a spare key. Thought I’d pop in and say hello.”

Natasha nodded. “Hello.”

”Hello.”

Awkward Silence.

”We’ve all missed you, Clint.”

He groaned, putting Joan hands on his hips and turning his head away. He didn’t want to hear this again.

”Don’t get attached.” He mumbled. “Just here to visit.”

She scowled. “And I’m just letting you know.”

”Well, good to know.”

”Good.”

”Good.”

Silence again.

Clint coughed. “So.” He remarked. “Alien roommates.”

Natasha broke her scowl in a laugh. “Yeah.”

”How, uh... how are those?”

”Not too bad. Some are assholes. A few are assholes, but still my friends.”

”Sounds about right.” He put his hands in his pockets. “...kind of weird to think about, though.”

”Even weirder to experience.” She admitted. “One of them is a snarky raccoon.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

”Another is just a green-skinned space babe with a blue cyborg sister.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. “...I don’t even have anything clever to say to that.”

She shrugged. “We’re a colorful bunch.”

He nodded his head, bobbing it cluelessly.

”I, uh.” He coughed into his fist. “I should probably get going.”

”Have you said hi to anyone else?” Nat caught him immediately.

Clint hesitated. “No.”

She sighed. “You can’t just avoid us, Clint.”

”I can. I am actively doing it, right now; in fact.”

She crosses her arms, staring at him with a disapproving glare. “Stay with us.” She said. “I know that you want to be with your family, but—“

”But what?” He almost dared her. “Are you going to ask me to choose? Because I’ve already made my choice.”

She stopped, exhaling. After a beat, she put up her hands in surrender.

”Fine.”

”Fine.”

A third silence.

”I’m going.” He said, brushing by her without looking her in the face.

Nat didn’t respond.

Before he began to walk down the hallway, he stopped in his tracks. Clint turned on his heel, heart softening.

”I miss you guys, too.”

She didn’t turn around.

He released a breath, then continued to walk down the hallway.

”I’ll tell them you said hello,” said her voice from behind him.


	29. Spilling The Tea (Peter Parker/Shuri/The Ancient One)

Shuri adjusted herself in her seat, crossing her legs on the comforter. She looked at Peter, who was on his phone on the opposing couch, and smiled.

”So,” she said. “Spill the tea.”

Parker looked up and blinked. “Sorry?”

”Spill the tea.” Shuri repeated, then made a face. “Please tell me you know what that means.”

He nodded anxiously, afraid she would think he was stupid. He did actually know what it meant. “Yeah,” He said. “No, Yeah, I know what that means. Just... what about?”

”I have never been to an actual high school before.” Shuri smiled. “There must be so much drama.”

”Drama.” Peter repeated. “Yeah.”

”Oh, I can only imagine.” She started talking more to herself. “The horrible breakups, the hair-pulling fights... sure, I love working in the lab, but I am also fascinated in whatever it is other teens do.”

“Probably not those things.”

”Well, then tell me what it is!” She leaned forward in her seat. “Spill the tea!”

Peter scratched at the nape of his neck. “Uh,” he mumbled. “I’m not really in the loop with that kind of stuff.”

”Aw, what?”

“I don’t really have any tea... to spill.”

A voice piped up from the connecting kitchen. “Well, I’ll make you some, then.”

Peter and Shuri turned. The ancient One had been listening in on their conversation.

”Ah, Ancient One.” Shuri chuckled. “That’s not what that means.”

”It isn’t... literal tea.” Peter said sheepishly.

”I know what spilling the tea means,” Their back was turned to the kettle. “I was just joking.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You know what that means?”

”Gossip. Yes.”

Shuri’s face lit up. She found this absolutely hilarious, the way the Ancient One talked so matter-of-factly about something like gossip. It was a little funny to Peter, too.

”Really?” He asked.

”Just because I am older doesn’t mean I can’t dish the hot goss.” They replied, voice hilariously even. “It means I can do it better than anyone else.”

”That’s right!” Peter exclaimed. “Aren’t you, like, thousands of years old?”

”Maybe a little older,” they replied when the kettle whistled. “But yes.”

Shuri’s eyes widened. “You must have so much to tell.”

”I can only imagine the kind of drama you must have gotten into.” Peter said.

”I don’t spill tea.” She replied, shaking her head and pouring the literal tea into three cups on a platter.

Shuri groaned, and Peter got a little disappointed.

The Ancient One walked over to the two, handed their each a teacup, took one of their own, and sat down.

“I throw the entire cup.”

Once again, their faces lit up. The Ancient One couldn’t help but chuckle.

”Tell us everything.” Shuri stared in rapt attention.

The Ancient One sipped their tea, and began to spill.


	30. Surprisingly Toned (Drax/Bruce Banner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drax underestimates Bruce’s strength.

“You’re an intellectual.”

Beuce looked up from his paper, eyeing Drax. “Huh?” He stuttered. He didn’t really expect anyone to be talking to him.

”You’re an intellectual.” He repeated. “I can tell.”

Bruce pushed up his glasses by the brims when they slipped down his nose. He looked away, smiling slightly. He certainly didn’t expect any complements, either. “Well, thank you.” He chuckled.

“I can tell,” Drax continued, arms crossed. “Because of your small body.”

The other shoe dropped.

”Ah,” Bruce remarked. “I... see.”

”I am glad you understand.” The alien nodded. “Most people get offended when I am honest with them.”

”Yeah, no... I’m not offended...” Bruce looked at his body for a second, then stuttered after a beat. “B-but I wouldn’t say that I’m... small.”

Drax uncrossed his arms. “You are small.”

”I— I’d say I’m average.”

”Smaller than average.”

He sighed and took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. Irritation. He was getting irritated, and that wasn’t good. He couldn’t risk hulking out, not on this innocent guy. He had to calm down.

”Alright, Okay...” Banner said, eyes closed. “Please, Stop.”

”Did I offend you too?” He crinkled his brow. “Because you shouldn’t be.”

”Listen, I—“

”I have been taught on how to be polite by the creepy robot man,” he continued without even listening. “And I have gotten very, very good at it.”

”Drax. Buddy—“ Irritation morphed into frustration.

”I am only telling the truth. That is a valued trait in a friend.”

”Okay, Alright!” Bruce exclaimed. “I’m small! Is that what you want to hear?!”

Frustration bubbled over into anger, and before he knew it, Banner’s clothes were shredded.

A huge green fist flung forward and hit Drax square in the face, sending him flying across the room. Hulk screamed as he hit him. The alien slammed against the wall and fell to the floor, limp.

”Hulk not small,” he groaned, voice gravelly.

After a few labored breaths, Hulk receded, and Bruce came back. Shrinking back down to his smaller counterpart, he gasped. “Oh, my god!” He was dizzy. “Oh my god, Drax!”

Before he could even get worried, Drax started to laugh. “Yes!” He punched a fist in the air. “I have summoned my worthy adversary!”

It was Bruce’s turn to crinkle his brow. “What?”

”I have heard,” he laughed, booming and loud. “Of the green titan who’s anger fuels him! And now I met him!”

”You made me angry on purpose?”

”Of course!”

The alien stood as Bruce rubbed his own temples.

”Do it again!” He slapped at his bare chest with incredible excitement. “Do it again! Bring him back!”

”You know what?” Banner grunted. “I think he’s coming back for another round.”


	31. Respect (Nebula/The Ancient One/Okoye)

There was something oddly familiar about the way Okoye, Nebula, and the Ancient One interacted with one another.

Even if it was just a passing glance, they would more often than not pay close attention to one another. Assessing. Eyes flickering up and down one another’s bodies, as if sizing them up for a fight. It made other people in the room nervous when they wouldn’t stop staring at each other.

But nothin ever really happened. They would lock eyes, then go about their business.

With the Ancient One and Okoye, it was a formal affair. The Ancient One would size her up over the rim of her tea cup, face calm and even. They would show little emotion. Calm.

Okoye would do the same, projecting that aura of confidence she always did. Her eyes would flicker from their eyes to their hand, then up to their eyes again. She wouldn’t blink. Intense.

They took a sip of tea. She adjusted the grip of her spear. They both broke eye contact.

Stephen and T’Challa, who witnessed this slightly uncomfortable transaction, looked at one another. 

“What was that?” Strange mumbled.

”I do not know.” The king whispered back.

With Nebula and Okoye, it was different than a silent assessment. It was far more aggressive— not outwardly, none of them threw fists, or even insinuated initiating a fight. No, just the way that they glared at each other was enough to make onlookers shudder.

Okoye would stare intensely again; but this time, with a more dignified posture. Standing up straight, fist right around her spear, never leveling her head downwards for anything. Just barely looking at Nebula from the corner of her eye, she would stare. 

Arms crossed, Nebula would stare at her. Her chin would be tilted, eyes dark and searing. They would travel quickly up and down Okoye, as if she only needed a quick look to find out everything about her. She had an aloofness to her, as if she hardly even cared how hard she was staring.

The two would never break eye contact with each other, as if it were a competition to see who would break first. Usually, someone had to step in.

With Nebula and the Ancient One, it was less a battle of wills and more so one where they would glance at each other, but never see the other looking at them.

Nebula no longer went to hard stares, and instead amped up the aloofness. She would lean against a wall and look slightly at the Ancient One, then look back forward. These glances would be quick, and hard to spot because of the darkness of her eyes. If you weren’t paying close attention, you may have even thought that she didn’t care.

The Ancient One did almost the same. It seemed less like they were trying to not care, and more like they were focused on something else. On the rare occasion that they would catch her eye, she would nod slightly in her direction, turn forward, and calmly sip their tea.

Eventually, this was noticed by Tony— well, everyone noticed. Tony was the only one to point it out.

”Okay, we need to stop with the animosity here.” He said when the three were sizing one another up again.

”Hm? What do you mean, Stark?” The Ancient One asked politely.

”The staring. This whole judgement thing. It’s distracting, and frankly, kind of scary.”

”Judgement?” Okoye repeated. “We are not judging one another.”

Tony crinkled his brow in confusion. “Then what the hell is going on with the— the glaring and uncomfortable silences?”

“It’s respect.” Nebula had her arms crossed. “These two are the only people in the building I trust.”

”Yes.” Okoye nodded.

”Ditto.” The Ancient One said, their lips to their cup.

Stark began to say something, then sighed. “Okay. Alright. That’s good. Just, please, tone down the staring.”

”No.” the three of them said at once.

Tony just sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commonalities:
> 
> -Bald  
> -Beautiful  
> -Incredibly powerful  
> -Could kill me and I would thank them  
> -Snarky  
> -Quiet  
> -Stoic  
> -Thought to be second-hand characters but are more than that  
> -I love them  
> -have backstories that I want to be explored more


	32. Slang (Peter Parker/Thor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker says that he would die for Thor, and he does Not Take It Well

Peter laughed. “Mr. Thor, I would die for you.”

Thor’s face immediately fell, his eyes widening and lips parting as if he were in shock. His shoulders slumped, weighed down. He suddenly became short of breath. Peter did not just say that. This couldn’t be happening— not to the child.

There was no way that Peter would be so desensitized to the horrors of war that he could say that so casually. ‘I would die for you.’ That was something that lovers said to one another, or a father to his child. In a time of war and death, that was a parting phrase. Not a teenager, who hadn’t even had a first kiss, should ever say that. He could not have given up on life so fast, and invested all of his faith in Thor.

He had said it too, after Thor told a joke. ‘What has existed for centuries, yet hasn’t washed its hair all that time? My brother!’ And suddenly, just like that. Peter said he would die for Thor. Was it some odd and alarming final will and testament, as if to say that Loki were to strike the boy down, he had done it to protect him? He was insane. The child was insane.

”What?” He whispered, anger growing in his voice.

Parker, picking up on Thor’s shock and intensity, was taken aback. “I— I just thought what you said was funny. Y’know— and I said I’d die for you. As like... a joke.”

Thor’s hands were on the boy’s shoulders faster than he could react. He clapped down on his small arms with strong hands and the intensity of a thousand suns. He almost fell out of his seat— he was leaning so far forward to clench onto Peter.

”I wouldn’t let you.” He growled.

Peter gulped, afraid.

”Jesus.” Shuri said from one chair over. “He didn’t mean anything by it, Thor.”

”I would not allow him!” Thor exclaimed, voice cracking. “I would not allow him to die for me!”

”Thor, I—“

”Listen to me, Peter.” His voice got intense and gravelly. “You will not die for anyone. Ever. I will not allow it.”

Shuri tried to pipe up again. “No, he—“

”You are but a child,” Thor almost seemed close to tears now. “And I will do everything in my power to protect you in battle. You will not die, and even if I am dead and unable to protect you, I will watch you from beyond the grave, and curse those who attempt to harm you. Do you hear me?”

Peter was speechless. “I—I’m flattered, Mr. Thor.”

”It’s a term of endearment.” Shuri sighed.

Thor released his grip slightly. “I’m sorry?”

” ‘I would die for you’— it’s an expression of kindness that millennials use for one another.” She explained. “We overexaggerate.”

”Yeah, I wouldn’t literally die for you!” Peter put up his hands defensively, then stuttered. “I mean, given a situation if I had to choose, then I probably would, but—“

Thor went back into intense mode. “I WOULD NOT ALLOW IT, PETER!”

Peter screamed. Shuri just sighed.


	33. Brotherly Care (Loki/Thor)

“I am surprised you are not up to your usual tricks, brother.” Thor took a sip of his coffee.

Loki looked up from the book he was reading. He didn’t expect his brother to say anything to him, especially in the morning. The two were a little more distant then.

”What do you mean?” Loki asked him, turning the page.

Thor shrugged. “You haven’t been as much of a trickster god as you used to. You have become more...” he thought for a moment. “Mellow.”

”I’d better fix that, then.”

The god of thunder put out his hands. “No, no.” He assured him. “It’s good. People are trusting you more.”

Loki laughed at that. “Their mistake.”

He sighed. “I just mean,” he continued. “That you haven’t been as knavish as of late.”

”As I said— I will fix that. Complaint received. I’ll get back to doing my job.”

Thor groaned. “Brother— and as I said, this is a good thing!” 

Loki just grumbled and shut his book.

Thor sensed that something was amiss. He didn’t often talk with his brother, but he still cared for him. It wasn’t like they hated one another or anything, but they did have their ups and downs. Thor wanted to have less downs, so he reached out.

”Loki?” He asked. “Is there something wrong?”

”I’m fine.”

”No, something is bothering you.”

”Why would you care?” Loki raised his eyebrows.

“Because you are my brother,” Thor said earnestly. “And I love you.”

He made a face. Thor sighed again and grumbled “Just tell me.”

His brother sighed. “It’s too easy.”

Thor blinked. “What?”

”Tricking others. Being knavish. Ever since I returned to Midigard, it has become... boring.”

He could see it on Thor’s face— he still didn’t understand. Loki sighed. Holding up a finger, he looked around for someone. Just about anyone else. 

The only other person he saw was Mantis, sitting on a couch.

”Hey!” He called to her.

She looked up, confused.

”Come here.” He beckoned her.

She was still confused, and looked around the room for anyone else that he could be talking to. Mantis pointed at herself questioningly.

Loki nodded, growing weary. “Yes, you. Come here.”

Mantis stood, with her hands folded, and walked over meekly.

”Yes?” She asked.

Loki turned to Thor and held up a finger. “Watch this.” He said.

Thor adjusted himself in his seat, and paid attention.

Loki turned back around to Mantis. “There is a spot on your shirt.” He pressed a finger at a spot on her top.

Mantis furrowed her brow and looked down at it. “Is there—?”

Suddenly, Loki flicked up his finger to her nose, causing her to recoil. She touched a hand to her fade as Loki put his hands in the air.

”See?” Loki asked. “That was a child’s trick. They are too gullible. I cannot waste tricks from the god of mischief on— this!”

Mantis seemed emotionally hurt. “Why did you do that?” She asked innocently.

Thor pat Mantis on the arm reassuringly. “Look what you have done, brother.” He chided Loki.

Loki sighed. “Forget it.” He stood up, grabbing his book. “Looks like Midigard isn’t worth my tricks.”

He walked away, and Mantis was still nursing the spot Loki flocked her.

”Why did he do that?” She asked Thor.

He shook his head. “He’s just in a mood.”

”I could tell.” Mantis nodded. “I felt it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Felt it?”

”I felt his emotions. He feels rejected. Lost. Lonely.”

Thor withdrew his hand and looked to the floor. Lonely? Loki didn’t seem lonely to him. He seemed fine. But..

He stared into the dregs of his coffee, then stood.

Mantis cocked her head. “We’re are you going?”

“To make sure he is not alone.” Thor walked away.


	34. Flirting(?) (Nebula/Thor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, Nebula doesn’t know how to talk to people. Especially cute people.
> 
> (hey,,, maybe,,, that person is you if Nebula/reader is your bag)

She won’t stop glancing at them. It’s almost ridiculous, how much her eyes are flirting from her drink, to the person, back forward, then to her drink again. The champagne bubbles up in her glass, which shakes and clinks in her metal fingers. She takes nervous sips, trying to convey fruitlessly that she isn’t nervous.

It’s official. Nebula has a bit of a crush.

The gala is large and horribly extravagant. Tony had always seen one to throw an over the top party in the most expensive way possible, have he truly has pulled out all the stops on this one. Incredibly classy. Incredibly formal. Everyone is scarily dressed up, pristine in how they walk and talk. No one seems joking or amiable. Even close friends who talk as if they have known one another for their entire lives are stiff in their movements. It’s intimidating, moreso even than the field of battle. In battle, everything goes. But here, she’s in unfamiliar terrain. She doesn’t know the rules.

Nebula shudders. She has never been in an environment like this before. This is her first ball, of sorts. And already, it is despised. She is wearing a white, floor length dress that hugs her hips uncomfortably. It’s difficult to move. White, elbow length gloves adorn her arms. She feels completely naked. It’s awful. 

Nobody has debriefed her on what’s to do, who to talk to, how to act. She is too prideful to ask for help, or even make small talk. She shudders at the thought. Small talk. No, she would rather slowly get drunk off of this beverages made entirely out of bubbles. She has no one to talk to anyway, and is standing next to the table with the elegant food spread on it. 

And now, an extra layer has been added. Nebula has formed a crush on a perfect stranger— just some person across the hall. Something about them has grabbed Nebula’s attention, and will not let it go. There is a vice grip on her heart, and she wants to get it off.

Nebula looks around frantically, for someone she knows. Anyone she knows, at all. It’s a struggle. There’s so many people here.

Finally, she finds someone. The God-Man— Thor. She groans under her breath. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

She downs the last of her drink and hurries over to him, all the while trying to make it not look like she’s incredibly in a hurry. Nebula keeps her chin up, eyes narrowed, and hips swaying. 

“Hello.” She says, voice low.

Thor turns away from the many enchanted women and men he is talking to. He beams when he sees her. “Ah, Nebula!” He exclaims. “Lovely to see you. I was just recounting my trip through the stars with these ladies and gentlemen— care to join?”

”Actually,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “I need to talk to you.”

Thor raises his eyebrows, concerned. “Of course...” he turns back the crowd. “I’m sorry, but I must tend to my friend.”

All the people look disappointed, and slowly disperse. Once the final person is gone, Nebula releases a breath.

”What’s wrong?” Thor asks.

”I needed to find someone I knew,” She furrowed her brow, attempting her best icy stare. “And you were the closest.”

”I see.” He puts his hands behind his back. “Is that it?”

”Yes.” She spits. “That is everything.”

”Alright.”

Thor rocks back and forth on his heels. Nebula bites her lip in thought.

”You...” she says, hesitant. “You seem to be good. With women. And men..”

He raises his eyebrows and laughs. “I suppose so.” He guffaws. “They really do like me, for some reason.”

”...How do you do that?” She asks bluntly.

“Do what?”

”Make people like you.”

Thor is taken aback for a moment and says “I—“

Nebula holds up a hand, sneering. “Don’t read too much into it, Lighting Man. It’s just a question.”

He puts up his hands defensively. “Alright. Of course.”

Nebula backs down, still scowling, trying to cover up Her embarrassment.

”I never have to flirt, usually. They just come.”

She rolls her eyes in discomfort.

”They are naturally drawn to me, for the most part.” He scratches at his beard innocently. “But I cannot conceive why.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes again. “Please. I can’t gain 50 pounds in muscle and grow a beard by the end of the night.”

”By the end of the night?” He repeates, unable to hold back a smile. “Has a specific maiden or lad captured your heart?”

”I will break your neck, right now.” She threatens.

Once again, Thor stands down. “Alright. Alright... well, you may not be able to grow a beard, but you can strike up a conversation.”

”Talk to them?”

”Did you expect them to like you without you talking to them?” 

Nebula grumbles. “That would be ideal.”

Thor nudges her playfully. “Come, now. It will not be the end of the world if they do not like you.”

She groans. “I would rather not.”

”What do you have to lose?”

”My dignity.”

Thor scoffs. “There is nothing to it. I am sure they would have a lovely time talking to you.”

Nebula’s face turns stone cold in an instant, glaring up at Thor. He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

”Just... smile. Ask questions about them. Act like you’re interested.”

”And how do I not... pass out?”

”You have faced much stronger foes.”

”If this was about me kicking their ass, I wouldn’t be nervous. I would have done it by now.”

Thor looks around, then finds what he is looking for. He waves a hand, then beckons a person forward. A server appears in front of the two with more glasses of champagne. He takes a glass and hands it to Nebula.

”Liquid courage.” He smiles.

Reluctantly, she takes it and sighs. “To battle I go.”

”To battle!” He grins wider, taking another glass for himself.

The two clink their glasses, and Thor gingerly sips at his drink. Nebula downs it immediately, and takes two more glasses, downing those as well.

”I’m ready.” She says dryly.

”Go on!” Thor encourages her. “Enchant them with your charm!”

Nebula laughs haughtily. “Sure. I only have my dignity to lose.”

Thor quietly cheers on Nebula as she approaches the object of her affections. She weaves her way through the crowd, the drinks not hitting her quite yet. She is sweating bullets, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t do something about it.

She reaches them, and taps them on the shoulder. They turn, and smile at her. 

“Hi.” They say. “You’re... Nebula, right?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’ve heard of me?”

”Yeah! From the next Avengers extension. The, uh, the Guardians, right?”

She nods, her stomach growing warm. “That’s right.”

”Cool. I’m a fan.”

Nebula’s face heats up now. “Cool.” She repeats, not really knowing what to say.

They cock their head. “Did you need something?”

Snapping out of her little trance, Nebula attempts to assume confidence. “Yes. I just wanted to... ask you a question.”

They nod. “Shoot.”

Crap. She hadn’t thought this far through yet. She didn’t have any questions.

In her panic, Nebula asked them “Which of your teeth do you value most?”

Their eyes widen. Nebula groans under her breath. She blew it. Now they thought that she was going to punch them in the mouth or something.

To her surprise, they laughed. “Good question. I guess I’d have to say my front teeth, because I smile for pictures a lot. I can’t have a gap there. Or maybe my molars, because chewing food would be difficult, and I love to eat...”

Wait. Were they... taking it seriously? Did they not get scared by Nebula’s oddly vague threat? She blinked.

”That didn’t... disturb you?”

They laugh again. “No, not really. It just seemed like a unique icebreaker. Unless you’re...” They got cautious. “Actually going to remove my teeth somehow.”

Nebula shakes her head frantically. “No. No, I— I panicked. I was told to ask a question, and that was the first question I thought of.”

They smile. “Some question.” 

That gets a weak laugh out of Nebula. The stranger perks up.

”I can tell you’re a little new to this.” They say, then recoil. “Not that you’re bad or anything! It’s just, I am too— to everything, right now. I’ve never been to one of Tony Stark’s galas before.”

Nebula rolls her eyes. “They’re real disasters, aren’t they?”

They stifle their laughter behind a hand. “He’s wasted already, and he gave a speech while doing it. I can’t believe that man is a billionaire.”

The two laugh at that. Nebula feels much more... relaxed. More happy. She didn’t think that she could be this relaxed in an enviornment like this. She hates to say it, but she really does owe this to Thor.

She turns and looks over her shoulder to look at him, and he is grinning ear to ear. Thor gives her the most enthusiastic thumbs-up that Nebula has ever seen.

She gives him one back.


	35. Makeup (Mantis/Cassidy Lang)

“Your eyelashes are very pretty.” Cassidy looked up to Mantis with big, wide, childish eyes.

Mantis was watching Cassidy while Scott was out on ‘official hero business’, as he put it. The two were in the common room, drawing together. Cassidy was drawing herself riding a large ant, and Mantis didn’t really know how to draw, so she just swirled the pen around on the paper.

Mantis looked up at the girl and blinked. She smiled. “Thank you,” She said sincerely. “I did not know my eyelashes were pretty.”

”Yeah. They’re really long.” 

“Is that good?”

”Yes.”

Mantis smiled even wider.

Cassidy set down her marker and leaned in towards Mantis. “What kind of makeup do you use?”

This was a word Mantis didn’t know— there were a lot of those popping up nowadays. Like ‘iPhone’, or ‘internet’, this was a mystery to her.

”What is makeup?” Mantis cocked her head in confusion.

”You don’t wear makeup?”

”No. Can you tell me what it is?”

She pouted in thought. “It’s like... stuff that you put on your face. To make yourself pretty.”

”Oh.” Mantis sank. “Maybe... I should use some. To cover up my hideous features.”

”You’re not hideous!”

”I am. I was told so.”

Cassidy scrunched up her nose. “Who said that you’re hideous?”

”Drax.”

She stick out her little tongue. “Drax is a gross alien boy who never wears shirts and has a bunch of weird tattoos. If anyone’s hideous, it’s him.”

At this, Mantis gasped. The child’s insult to a dear friend was so out of nowhere, so unnecessary. But in a way, it reminded her of Drax’s earnestly endearing nature.

She giggled after a moment. “Don’t say that!” She said though laughter.”

”It’s true!” Cassidy started laughing too now. “You’re the pretty one!”

It felt now like Mantis had a confidant, a new camraderie with Cassidy. Sure, she had babysat her before, but then she felt a little more removed. She never knew what to say or do, for fear of sounding strange or messing up. But this— this new sense of kindness and familiarity warmed her heart.

”You are pretty too!” Mantis responded in kind.

“I am.” Cassidy puffed out her chest. “And I’m not even wearing makeup.”

”Really?” She asked in awe.

The girl nodded. “Daddy said that I’m too young to wear it. But sometimes...” she looked over her shoulder then leaned in further. “I use lip gloss before I go to school.” She whispered.

Mantis didn’t know what lip gloss was, but she went along with it. “No!” She said in hushed tones, disbelieving.

”I do!” Cassidy exclaimed happily, with incredible pride.

“Maybe... if makeup makes you pretty, and Drax is not pretty...” Mantis slowly pieced her thoughts together.

Cassidy gasped and clapped her hands together.

* * *

 Scott came back into the tower, shrugging off his coat and throwing it on the couch. “Cass?” He called out. “Hey, Peanut?”

No response. Probably up him her room with Mantis. He walked up the stairs and opened the door to a new scene he could add to his list of odd things that he had witnessed under the roof of his living space.

Drax was sitting on Cass’ bed, with Mantis curiously opening different containers of makeup nearby. Blush, mascara, eyeliner, concealer, lipstick, and the Like were all open and splayed out on the bed. Cass was stranding in’s front of Drax, currently drawing in eyebrows above his eyes. She did not have a very accurate hand.

Upon hearing the door open, Drax turned his head. He was completely caked in makeup, many of the applicants in places where they should not have been. Cass turned too, and smiled. “Daddy!” 

The alien grinned widely. “Lang!” He exclaimed. “Your child is covering me in your native war paint!”

Scott could not breathe for quite a few minutes.


	36. Webs and Arrows—The Other Peter (Yondu Udonta/Peter Parker)

Yondu Udonta scared quite a few people. And Peter Parker was easily scared.

Sure, he had gotten along with the others fairly enough. Rocket was rough around the edges, but fun to hang out with if he just complied. Groot was reclusive, but they both liked video games. Peter Quill and Mantis were both cool and easy to get along with. Drax, while big and scary, was mostly harmless and quite oblivious, and had a good sense of humor. Gamora was kind to him because he was a child. Even Nebula had her moments.

But Yondu was the one he just couldn’t get along with. The intimidating appearance, all jagged teeth and smirks and rough stubble and clenched fists, not to mention the psychic fin thing and the blue skin— it was disorienting to poor Parker. He wasn’t someone who was really interested in confrontation or snarky comments, and that was all that Yondu was made out of. The sneers and glares and silences wore him down, made him sweat. The attitude didn’t entirely help either.

So, Peter just tried his best to steer clear of him overall. Yondu seemed fine with that— for awhile.

Peter was trying to get in and out of the kitchen undetected; it was past midnight, and he was attempting to snatch a late-night snack. The workload he exerted every day accompanied with his growing body meant he ate much more than any normal teen. And now, he was starving.

Creeping past that one creaky floorboard that almost exposed him every time, he slowly made his way to the pantry. Releasing a breath when he finally made it onto the kitchen tile, he walked normally. He had made it. Now, it was just time to get the food and book it back to his room.

He grabbed a box of granola bars, a banana, three pouches of fruit snacks, a pudding cup, and some saltines. Peter tapped his chin, then moved into the next shelf.

His scavenging was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. In a panic, Peter jumped and dropped his food on the floor.

”Whuh—“ He choked out, spinning towards the voice’s origin. Behind him. “I-I’m Sorry! I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

”Nah, boy.” A raspy voice in the darkness said. It come from the chair in the corner of the connected common room. It was completely shrouded in darkness. “I was already awake.”

Peter blinked and squinted into the dark, unable to recognize the voice. “O-oh... Okay...” he bent over, picking up his food shamefully. “Well— I’m gonna put this away, and— and go back to bed.”

”Naw.” The voice said. “Stay down here, kid. I wanted to talk to y’ anyways.”

Peter hesitated, carefully placing the saltines back on the shelf. “Alright.”

At this, the figure turned on the lamp sitting on a nearby end table. Yondu’s face became illuminated in the chair. Peter jumped.

”Boo.” Yondu whispered, before a wheezing laugh bubbled up in him.

The teen swallowed, nervous. “Yondu.” He breathed.

”Yeah, ‘s me.” He nodded, then featured to the nearby couch. “C’mon. Take a seat.”

Parker was frozen.

”What, you need a formal invite?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I—“ he plopped down on the couch and cleared his throat. “I can. Sit. You, uh— you said you wanted to talk to me?”

Yondu bobbed his head. “I did, kid. You’re Peter, ain’t ya?”

Affirmatively, he nodded. “Yeah.”

”Yeah.” Yondu repeated. “The Spiderling.”

”Spider—“ Peter sighed. “Spider-Man. I’m Spider-Man.”

”Man?” Yondu laughed. “You’re a boy.”

”I—“ Peter’s face turned red, and he hoped that Yondu couldn’t see in the dim light. “Hey!”

”I’m just teasin’, Pete.” Yondu waved his hand, still chuckling. “Just teasin’... you’re awful jumpy, huh?”

Peter gulped. “Am I?...”

”Yeah, well I don’t— Boo!” Yondu lunged forward without leaving his seat. Peter practically jumped four feet in the air.

Yondu cackled. “Come on, boy! You’re gonna leap your way to the next room.”

”Sorry.” Peter grimaced. “It’s just... Mr. Quill told me that you... threatened to eat him wen you were younger?”

Yondu cackled louder. “That kid! You really are just like ‘im.”

He shifted uncomfortably.

”Now,” Yondu calmed. “I know you, but I’ve never formally introduced myself. Have I?”

Peter scratched at his neck. “I don’t think so.”

”Yondu Udonta. Ravager.” He held out a hand to shake. “Trust me— I don’t eat people. Not kids, at least.” His laugh was seedy.

Parker apprehensively took it, and Yondu held his hand hard. He bit back a wince as they shook.

”Alright... Mr. Udonta—“ Peter began, but got cut off.

”Mr. Udonta?” Yondu’s eyes got wide, and he released another wheezy laugh. “Hell! You’re a formal one, boy. I can’t believe that you’re Tony’s damn kid.”

Peter blinked. “I’m sorry?”

”Your dad’s such a damn stuck-up. No offense.” He grumbled that last part. “His nose is so high in the air, y’d think it would be in the stratosphere.”

”No, no—“ Parker shook his head. “Mr. Udonta, I’m sorry, but Mr. Stark isn’t my dad.”

”He ain’t?” Yondu arched a brow.

”No.”

Yondu laughed. “Liar.”

Peter blinked again. “What?”

Yondu scratched at his chin, smiling widely. “Y’know, I had this same discussion with your old man. And I gotta say, the ol’ family resemblance is really showing.”

Peter’s face turned red again. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? About Mr. Stark bring my... my dad?” He fumbled through the words.

”Yeah,” Yondu confirmed. “And it looks like I was right, if that ol’ poker face of yours is tellin’ Me so.” He laughed again, a solid ‘ha!’.

Parker stood, getting more and more uncomfortable by the moment. “I-I’m really sorry, but whoever told you that is wrong.”

”No one told me.” He shrugged. “Figured it out.”

“Uh— Mr. Udonta, we aren’t related.”

”Who said anything about you being related?”

Once again, Peter could only blink. “What?”

Yondu sighed and adjusted himself in his seat. “Did Quill ever tell you about his ol’ man?”

Parker shook his head. He knew that this was a sensitive topic for Quill, just from context clues alone. “No.”

Yondu gestured to the couch again, motioning for Parker to sit down. He obliged.

”He was a big-ass planet.”

”A— a what?”

”A planet.” Yondu explained.  “A sentient, livin’, breathin’ planet. And he was a real bitch.”

Peter crinkled his brow, pretending like he understood.

”Made a human body for himself. Went down to Earth. Hooked up with Quill’s mom, then ditched.” Yondu jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Left Quill alone with his sick ma.”

”Oh.” Peter said, voice low.

” N’ that’s where I come in.” Yondu sat up a little straighter. “Took him in. Raised him as my son. Lived with us other Ravagers as a member of our family.”

Despite himself, Parker smiled. “That’s good.”

Yondu squinted. “D’y see where I’m goin’ with this, boy?”

Peter hesitated, then shook his head. “I... I don’t.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t Quill’s father. But I was his daddy.”

Parker, a Gen Z who knew multiple means of the word daddy, gave this alien the benefit of the doubt that he did not mean what Peter thought he meant. He just nodded, trying to give Yondu a straight face.

”Alright,” He said slowly in case he was missing something. “I... understand. But what does this have to do with me and Mr. Stark?”

Yondu leaned forward and smiled, resting his elbows on his knees. His fin tilted forward. “Sound familiar?”

Peter remained silent.

”A young boy named Peter,” Yondu continued, his jagged teeth being revealed in a smile. “Who’s father figure abandoned him in some way and is raised by one lady, gets taken in by an older gentleman with special powers who teaches him, confides in him, and learns from him?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’d say the similarities are there, boy.”

”I—“ Peter blushed. “He doesn’t— you didn’t describe Mr. Stark and I. It’s just... work.”

Yondu leaned back in his seat.

”Him being with me, it’s...” Peter sighed. “It’s work.”

”Whad’ya mean?”

”He isn’t with me because he wants to be,” Parker rubbed his arm. “It’s because he has to be. Because I’m Spider-Man.” For whatever reason, his face was getting hot again.

”It ain’t work.”

”It’s because I’m part of a team.”

”Your team is your family.” Yondu said gently. “And Stark? Stark is your family.”

”He doesn’t think of me that way.” Peter spat instinctively. He felt something hot boiling up inside his chest. He tried to steady his breathing.

Yondu was quiet. He tapped his finger on the edge of the armrest as he watched Peter fume.

”Peter.” He said, voice gravelly and low.

”I—“ Peter choked. “Mr. Stark isn’t my dad. No matter how much I want him to be.”

Yondu got quiet once more. Peter sniffed and bit his lip, struggling for breath. A wash of shame crashed over him, flooding his veins with coldness.

”I mean,” he stuttered, breathing ragged. “It’s not— he isn’t— I—“

Peter was horribly embarrassed. Where was this coming from? So impromptu and absolutely field from nothing. It hardly took a single conversation about father figures to unlock something emotional in him. He tried his best to not cry in front of someone who was almost a stranger up until a few minutes ago, but it was proving harder and harder to do.

Yondu stood and walked over to the pantry. He began pulling food off of the shelves.

He walked back over and spread a massive amount of goods on the table in front of Peter. He was still biting his lip fiercely. Yondu sat down next to him.

”I saw you tryna sneak some snacks earlier.” He gently rested a hand on the teen’s back. “And I can tell you’ve been on a coupla food runs in your time.”

Peter forced a laugh. “Yeah.”

”Well,” he cracked his knuckles. “A hard-workin’ kid like you deserves a real smorgasbord. Ravagers know how to really eat. Lemme show you how to do a real snack run.”

Parker sniffed and wiped his nose. “Th-thanks. Thank you.”

Yonud smiled gently and went to open a package of fruit snacks. “Y’know,” He said, not looking over to the kid. “Tony ain’t as stuck-up as you think he is. He’s an awful good guy... and an awful good daddy.”

He chuckled naturally this time. “You’re the one who said he was stuck up.”

”Am I?” Yondu feigned surprise. “Now I don’t recall that.”


	37. Blasters And Masks (Tony Stark/Peter Quill)

Tony smacked Quill’s hands. “Don’t touch that.” He chided.

Peter dropped the random device that he picked up from Tony’s workbench and exclaimed “hey!” It fell to the ground with a clatter.

Tony groaned. “You dropped it.” The man stooped to pick it up.

”You hit my hand!” Peter accused him.

”No excuse. You dropped it.”

”Jesus.” Peter mumbled, rubbing his knuckles.

Tony’s working space was spacious, and very cluttered. Peter noticed an abundance of meaningless doodads amongst the actual technological stuff— or were the doodads part of the technology? He could never tell. Earth nowadays was so foreign.

The mask that Peter wore was on the table, bits and pieces disconnected from it. He sighed at the sight. Stark wanted to take a look at the parts, see if he could use time of the tech for himself. Peter begrudgingly obliged, on the condition that he wat he’d everything that went down. He didn’t want some prick of a billionaire messing up his mask.

Tony palmed the device and set it back on the table, then returned to examining the parts of the mask. When going in to touch one part, Peter put up his hand.

”Don’t touch that!” He exclaimed. “You’ll break it!”

Tony groaned again. “Please. I know what I’m doing.”

”No, you don’t.”

”I’m a professional who has built billions of dollars worth in machines and weapons,” he sneered. “I can handle a rinky-dink face mask.”

”None of my stuff is rinky-dink.” Peter growled. “You don’t even know how to work with particle tech.”

”Actually, my newest suit is nano-tech, so.” Stark scoffed, turning back to the mask.

”That isn’t the same thing!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands above him.

“Yeah, well, I’m the expert, buddy.” He went back to prodding at the parts with a screwdriver and taking more bits off.

”Geez. This is the thanks I get. Real nice.”

”You can either hand me a c wrench,” Tony didn’t even bother to look at him. “Or you could go find something to do.”

Peter just muttered under his breath as he turned away, and paced around the room. As he paced, he eyed a couple of the trinkets on the shelves and countertops. Fixating on one, he picked up a little model car from a table and turned it over in his hands. It was a hot rod with flames on the side.

”Quill, Hey.” Tony said, still looking at the mask. “Is this a...” Mid-sentence, he turned around, and saw Peter holding the car. “Hey!” He barked.

Peter jumped at the outburst. “What?”

”Put that down!”

”Jesus, I just—“

”Don’t touch my shit, Quill!” Tony raised his voice.

Haphazardly, Peter set the car back onto the desktop. One wheel was off kilter, hanging off the edge. In his hurry, Peter didn’t notice. As soon as he pulled away his hand, it fell to the hard ground with a crack.

Tony dropped whatever piece of the mask he was holding and rushed over, scooping the car up in his hands.

”Ah, geez.” Peter mumbled. “My bad, Stark—“

”Stop. Touching.” Stark growled, setting the car back in its rightful spot. “My. Things.”

”What— you’re the one getting your fingerprints on every surface of my mask!” Peter replied, getting heated up.

”I’m doing my job,” Tony said. “And you’re getting in the way!”

”Getting in the way?” He said in disbelief. “I dropped a toy.”

”It’s a model,” He spat. “And it is my property.”

”Okay, now I know why I don’t like you.” Peter jabbed a finger at him. “You’re just like how Yondu was to me when I was a kid!”

”Oh, please!” Tony threw his hands in the air now. “Not with your daddy issues again!”

”Don’t you talk to me about daddy issues!” Peter growled.

”Yeah, sure.” Tony turned around, pretending not to listen to him.

”You’re possessive of your things,” he began to list. “You’re old men who think you’re so great, and you’re both jackasses!”

”Don’t talk to me about this,” Tony muttered, walking back to his workbench. “Unless you have a point.”

”You’re an asshole!” Peter said pointedly. “For no reason! To everyone!”

”Real special, coming from you.” Stark waved him off. “The biggest asshole in the galaxy.”

”Hey, I’m letting you use my mask!”

”Well, take it back if you’re so attached to it!”

”I guess I will!”

”Fine!”

”Fine!”

The two finished their spat like a couple of petulant children. Peter snatched his mask and all it’s parts, then stormed from the room. Tony just groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

The two of them, for whatever reason, always seemed to come to blows when put in an environment like this. The two were both proud men. They were good with technology, they were snarky and bold, they had too much ego to keep in them. They had sorrowful pasts that they had gotten by. They were both new people with great lives.

Peter Quill and Tony Stark did not get along— because they were too much like each other.


	38. Patriots (Rhodey/Steve Rogers)

“The Iron Patriot, huh?” Cap sipped his drink gingerly, listening carefully to Rhodey.

Rhodes chuckled, lifting his own mug to his lips. “Yeah.” He sighed. “Yeah, the Iron Patriot. Quite the rebrand.”

”From War Machine, Yeah. No offense, but I think I’d like Iron Patriot a little more.”

Rhodey tilted his head. “I liked War Machine, actually. Powerful. Pretty cool, too.”

A smile spread on Steve’s face. “Yeah. It is cool.”

”Anyway, they thought I should rebrand because ‘War Machine’ sounds too violent.”

”But cool.”

”But cool,” Rhodey agreed. “So, we slapped some red-white-and-blue paint on it, gave it a new name. A little bit of a mess, that one.”

Cap hummed. “Not to me.”

Rodes caught himself, then tried to backpedal. “Not because of the patriotism. Nah...”

Shaking his head, Steve continued. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s not about the whole red-white-blue thing... I just think it’s never too late to have another American hero.”

Rhodey chuckled. “Cheers to that.”

”Stars and stripes.”

”Stars and stripes.”

The two glasses clinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’ve been gone for a bit, I’m catching up on the older marvel movies and trying to gether info on older characters and relationships
> 
> (Also school)


	39. A Good Haul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang counts up their Halloween night scores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all, I’m sorry for three things: 1. I haven’t posted for while, 2. I didn’t post this on Halloween, and 3. It stops kind of abruptly and weirdly, and I didn’t say what everyone else did. You can decide on your own.

Peter upended his candy filled pillowcase onto the table, spilling miniature sweets onto the countertop. He grinned as he palmed his haul, counting the treats in his hand. “Man,” he looked up to Tony. “Great haul this year!”

Peter was dressed up as Darth Vader, and had just arrived back at the Avengers Tower from a night of trick-or-treating. It was late at night, and everyone had split up into groups and go to different places to get candy. The Avengers had gotten home first, and were all shedding their costumes— except for Peter, who was still excited, even after the long night.

Thor emptied out his tiny, plastic filled pumpkin absolutely stuffed with treats. He lifted up the rinky-dink eyepatch he wore as a flimsy excuse for a pirate costume. No one called him out on it. “A fructose feast, Spiderling.” He smiled, plunking the candy vessel next to Peter. “You may consume my earnings.”

Peter gasped with joy. “Thank you, Mr. Thor!”

”Mine too, kid.” Steve handed over his bucket. “I’m not too big on these new candies. So sweet.”

”That’s how candies are supposed to taste, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve laughed, and shook his head. “Not when I was younger.”

”You didn’t have to go out, kid.” Tony tapped at his core, causing his suit to dispel. “I could have just bought everyone some definitely-not anthrax laced candy.”

”That wouldn’t be any fun.” Peter said. “Halloween’s all about dressing up and going out!”

”It was worth it just to see people freak out over seeing me.” Tony stroked his chin. “Never does get old.”

”You did not even dress up.” Thor pointed at Tony.

”That’s the point. Why get a costume if I’ve already got a functioning suit? Besides, they wouldn’t realize it was me. And you know how much I hate that.”

”That doesn’t seem very safe.” Steve piped up. “Just walking around in your suit.”

”Oh, of course you’d have something to say, Party City.” Tony scoffed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in something you could pick up on eBay.”

”Besides,” Peter popped a Starburst in his mouth. “This might be the last year I get to trick-or-treat.”

“Right, right.” Tony nodded. “Because going to strangers homes and asking for candy is illegal, but only if you’re a teen.”

”It is against the law?” Thor asked. “All this joy and revelry, stripped away?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

”You’re 16, kid. You can buy your own candy.” Tony replied.

”Speaking of buying our own candy!” Natasha piped up from the living room. She and Bruce had decided not to go out that night, because they had never been super into trick or treating anyway. Bat held up a supermarket bag of assorted candies. “Anyone up for Swedish Fish?”

”I shall consume some Swedish Fish.” Thor opened his hand for the gummies.

Bruce tossed him a packet and smiled at Peter. “How was it, buddy?”

”Oh my gosh, it was great, Mr. Banner.” Peter smiled. “We found this one place that was giving out full size chocolate bars, and—“

Tony snapped his fingers. “Oh, I know a place like that. It’s called a supermarket. You can buy as many as you want.”

”That’s not as fun.” Nat said.

Peter grinned widely, throwing his hands in the air. “That’s what I’ve been saying!” He repeated.

At this, the door opened again, and in walked the Guardians. “We are back!” Drax exclaimed. “From your pathetic Earth festival, Hall of Veen!”

”Halloween.” Nebula corrected him snidely.

Rocket was the first to enter the room, little hands on his hips. “You owe me big time, Quill!” He exclaimed to the human.

Peter furrowed his brow. “What’s going on?”

Quill had a huge smile on his face, and two completely stuffed pillowcases. “What’s up, A-holes?” He exclaimed as they walked through the door. He was in a David Hasselhoff costume he ordered online— everyone else was just in their regular outfits. Groot didn’t really seem to care though, and was still playing his video game.

”Whoa!” The teen exclaimed. “What a haul!”

”Here he is, the man-child himself.” Tony put out a hand to gesture at him. “I thought you wouldn’t get any candy, but a couple calls to the police sounded about right.”

Quill rolled his eyes. “Please. Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I can’t go trick-or-treating.”

”It is a law now.” Thor said through a mouthful of Swedish Fish.

Quill wrinkled his brow and turned to Peter. “Is it? God, Earth got horrible since I left.”

Peter nodded solemnly. “I know.”

”That sounds right.” Drax crossed his arms. “A holiday spent doing nothing but begging for sweets is a meaningless one.”

”What? No. It’s one of the greatest holidays ever. Didn’t you guys have fun?”

Gamora folded her arms as well. “I didn’t appreciate people saying my natural skin color was a type of makeup, or a paint.”

”As didn’t I.” Drax said. “How insensitive.”

”Don’t even get me started.” Nebula grumbled. “People wanted to... touch my arm.” She shuddered.

”A child pulled my antennae.” Mantis said.

”But... candy?” Quill said weakly.

Drax shook his head. Nebula sneered. Gamora sighed and pat him on the shoulder, replying “only if I get as much as I want.”

Mantis piped up. “I had fun! No one screamed when they saw me, and I got to eat as much candy as I wanted.” She smiled widely.

”See? Someone had fun.” Quill gestured to Mantis. “Thank you, Mannie.”

”And you have, like, thirty Halloween’s to make up for since you went to space, huh Mr. Lord?” Peter chimed in.

Tony guffawed.

Quill sighed. “Yes, I did have some stuff to make up for... but—“ he lifted the bags again. “I did it!”

”Yeah,” Rocket snarled. “And you couldn’t have done it without me!”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, without you?”

”Since none of these flarknards are children,” he gestured to the Guardians. “I had to pretend to be a kid in a very convincing raccoon costume!”

”And people bought that?” Nat lifted a brow.

”It’s very suprising, yes. Groot also had to pretend to be a human kid in a costume, but he didn’t really sell it enough. So I’m taking his earnings.”

”Whoa, hey, we never negotiated on candy agreements.” Quill got defensive. “We still need to portion them out.”

”I don’t really care.” Gamora said. “Just save me a few pieces and I’ll be fine.”

”Oh, there Gamora’s share in the pot!” Rocket grinned. “You can give that to me, along with Groot’s share.”

”Hey, no, she never said you can have all of it!” Quill interjected.

”Candy is for babies and those with snacking problems.” Drax growled. “I desire none. One of you may take my share.”

”What?” Quill hissed in disbelief. He turned to Mantis and Nebula now. “Do you guys hate candy too?”

Mantis anxiously cried out “no!” And Nebula hesitated. She had the look on her face of someone who actually liked candy, but didn’t want to admit it.

”Nebby’s real quiet, so I’ll take her share.” Rocket said again.

”That’s not—“

”Tell you what.” Rocket moved, quick as an animal, and snatched a pillowcase out of Quill’s hand. “I’ll just take this one!”

Before anyone could move, the rodent had already scampered away.

”Hey—!” Quill sighed, defeated.

”Its okay, Mr. Lord.” Peter said. “You can have some of mine.” He held up a handful of loose candy for him to take.

”Yeah, it’s not like we have a shortage of candy or anything.” Nat pointed to the bag she was currently holding.

”Again,” Tony said, frustrated. “I could go out to buy some.”

”It’s the principle of it all.” Quill grumbled. “We earned that.”

Without a word, Nebula took the second bag from Quill’s hand. When he started to protest, she piped up.

”Gamora, Mantis And I are taking this.” She paused. “For safekeeping.”

The three ladies left, scooping their hand into the bag and pulling out fistfuls of candy, Nebula grabbing quicker and more shamefully than the other two. Quill just sighed. Peter held out another handful of candy for him.


	40. Sorry, Ma’am (Peter Parker/Okoye)

Four days after Halloween, and somehow, all the candy hadn’t been devoured yet.

All the sweets collected by everyone through their trick or treating (plus the bags that Tony bought out of pure spite and determination) were put away so everyone wouldn’t Ben snacking on them constantly. Well, mostly so Peter And Shuri wouldn’t snack on the constantly. Everyone else on the team was, more or less, a responsible adult that had the self control to not eat hundreds of tiny Kit-Kats all day, but the two teenagers did not.

Like all good kids, they knew exactly where the candy was hidden, and how to get it. When none of the Avengers were looking, Shuri and Peter would sneak into the hiding place (the the third closet on the eighth floor, the most likely place because of its many shelves) and snatch handfuls of the fun-sized sweets.

Usually, they were good about it. The only times they had ever gotten caught were by Tony, who didn’t really care, and by Bucky, who promised not to tell if they’d shared some of their haul. Neither of them minded— there wasn’t plenty to go around.

But, one night, they got caught.

Shuri had been sloppy and left on the light in her room. When she rendezvoused with Peter, things went south.

”Hey.” Peter whispered, wearing a dark hoodie. “You ready?”

”We are sneaking candy,” she said, eyeing his outfit up and down. “Not robbing a bank. Yo udo not need a disguise.”

”Yeah, well,” he hissed sheepishly. “I need to blend in!”

”Why don’t you just use your spider-powers to hop onto the ceiling when someone walks by?” She squinted.

”I—“ he huffed. “Come on, are we going?”

”Yes. Let’s go.”

The two of them made their quiet trek, avoiding all the creaking floorboards and silently sliding down the stairs on the railing. When they made it to the third closet, Shuri pumped her fist.

”Yes!” She whispered in excitement, smiling. “Easy! See, you didn’t need that hoodie.”

”Jokes on you,” Peter stuck out his tongue. “This thing’s got a huge pocket that I can shove candy into.”

Shuri huffed. “Damn. You’re right.”

Peter opened the door and stood on his toes to reach the shelf, that at first glance, only held folded towels. But behind it were all of the candies that the entire team had accumulated, including several unopened party-sized bags. That was their goal tonight.

”This must have been how Christopher Colombus felt,” Peter whispered, smiling. “When he discovered America.”

”Minus the slavery and genocide.” Shuri said curtly, crossing her arms. “Also, he didn’t discover it.”

Peter stopped, then nodded. “Good point. I redact that statement.”

Moving the towels out of the way, Peter gasped in surprise.

Shuri raised her eyebrows. “What?”

”It’s gone!”

”What?” 

“It’s all not there anymore.” Peter hissed back, stepping down to look her in the eye.

Shuri moved him out of the way and stood in her toes. He was right. The previous hiding spot was now vacant.

Shuri furrowed her brow. “This bitch empty.”

And then, from the darkness, came the rusting of plastic wrappers and a form voice:

”Yeet.”

Peter whipped around with a yelp, and Shuri groaned at the familiar voice. Upon seeing who it was, her assumptions were correct.

”It’s past ten o’clock,” Okoye scolded. She held the massive candy bag in one hand as if it were a box of Tic-Tacs.

”Okoye, come on!” Shuri huffed. “Really?”

”I saw your light on in your room,” Okoye crossed her arms. “And found wrappers in your bedsheets.”

”Rookie mistake.” Peter mumbles shamefully.

Okoye fixed her glare on him now, gaze intense. She was the spitting image of a disciplinary figure. “Go to your room.” She ordered.

Head down, compliant, Peter shuffled away with a “Sorry, ma’am.”

With Peter shamefully walking up the stairs, Shuri sighed, upset.

”That goes for you too.” Okoye looked back to the princess. “No more late-night snacks.”

”Alright, mom.” Shuri tolled her eyes and followed Peter up the stairs.

She waited until the two teens were all the way up the stairs, and their footsteps faded. Straightening her shoulders and turning on her heel, Okoye quickly dipped her hand in the candy bag and looked for a new place to stash it.


End file.
